


Rag Doll

by livia_bj



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: M/M, and a plot behind it, some porn but not too much
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 22:37:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6396781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livia_bj/pseuds/livia_bj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aramis and Porthos are in a relationship, or whatever they'd like to call it. At the same time they like to include Athos in their dirty little games.<br/>Everybody seem to be happy with the arrangement, which means... they are not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Athos

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cmorgana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmorgana/gifts).



> My first Aramis/Athos fic.  
> I just found out recently that... well, I like them both together.  
> Only for sex, at least.  
> OTP are still Aramis/Porthos
> 
> Anyway....
> 
> This is also my first multi chapter fic.  
> It'll probably have two or three more. I think.  
> I'm nervous. I'm usually a disaster planning things ahead. 
> 
> And finally, as usual.  
> Just reminding you that I'm not a native English speaker and I apologize for my mistakes.  
> It is not my intention to ruin your reading. I beg your forgiveness.
> 
> This is me, if anyone out there is interested:  
> http://black-isthecolour.tumblr.com/
> 
> Oh! By the way!
> 
> my dear friend Morgana.... this work is for you. It's okay, you don't have to read it now.  
> When you're ready, it'll be here waiting.  
> You'll find on it many little ideas of those we used to discussed on the phone. I hope finding them like Easter eggs will make you smile.  
> Love you!

**Athos**

 

Aramis was not a man of making excuses. For that reason, Athos knew perfectly what was going to happen from the very first moment when he opened the door of his rooms only to find his friend waiting on the other side.

Still, knowing beforehand the end of the story was not an excuse not to pour some wine in two glasses.

“Does Porthos know you’re here?”

“Porthos is not the jealous type.”

“That’s not what I asked.”          

Aramis took a sip of wine.

“No, he does not know I’m here.”

Athos squinted at him. Aramis sighed in an exaggerated way.

“If you’re thinking we had a fight, you’re wrong. He never asks where I go and I rarely tell him, anyway. That’s all.”

 _Yeah_. _That was all_.

………………………………….

They had been sleeping together for some months now. Well, that was actually a euphemism since they never got to sleep together. They had been having sex for some months now, that was the exact nature of what they had been doing.

It all began back when Aramis and Porthos started sleeping together, and in this case, they indeed slept together. After having sex, of course. In other words, they started having a relationship. A strange relationship; not because it was a secret and forbidden one, but because they both refused to use that word to refer to their “business together”.  Also Aramis never stop seeing other people. And again, _seeing_ was another euphemism for _fucking_.

At first, Athos was perfectly fine with whatever they were doing as long as he didn’t get involved. However, the musketeers’ coexistence often had the inconvenience of an important lack of privacy. And his friends… Oh, they did it like bunnies.  It was therefore a matter of time that Athos heard _something_ , that Athos saw _something._

The first time he caught them he stood before them for almost ten seconds, and he knew it because he counted them along with his heartbeat, before quickly covering his eyes and storm off. His friends apologized to him later, but the harm was already done. Athos was horny. Only ten seconds of accidentally watching his brothers in arms naked and hard had been enough to get him a boner as well. Him of all people!  He who had not felt any sexual impulse for years! And he had been fine, thank you!

So Athos did what he did best; he used alcohol and work to forget. The only problem was that Aramis also did what he did best; not keeping his dick in his pants. The result was that for the next few weeks, the “oops we’re sorry you caught us having sex AGAIN” situations became more frequent (months later Aramis confessed he organised everything on purpose) and Athos’ will became less strong.

The first time he did actually stay in the room, Aramis and Porthos went on like if they were alone. His first thought was that they didn’t even notice he was there; but soon he found out that not only they were aware of his presence, but also they were very pleased with it. For a whole month they did it like that; Aramis and Porthos having hot wild sex, Athos watching them from the distance. It was only by the end of that month that he allowed himself to pull his cock out of his pants while enjoying the show.

Then one day Athos stopped attending their “casual meetings”. It was not an easy task, but his friends kept pumping him for the truth and in the end he had to confess it all; he didn’t want to be an observer anymore, he wanted to take part of it.

He was a little bit worried about how the whole threesome thing would go, but they never had the chance to do it like this. In fact, he and Porthos exchanged their roles and Porthos became the observer. He apologized to Athos a hundred times.

_“’s not that I don’t find you attractive. You are attractive, indeed. I’m the problem; I wouldn’t be comfortable.”_

_Athos looked at Aramis for if he had something to say, but his friend seemed to be enthralled by the twist of the events and was busy dealing with his arousal. They couldn’t count on a third brain to solve the situation, then. Athos turned to face Porthos._

_“We won’t do anything then. I would never put you in a situation in which…”_

_“Athos.” Porthos cut him off. “I meant I wouldn’t be comfortable doing it, not that I don’t want watching it.”_

_Athos watched at him, mouth agape._

_“What? Wait, you’re telling me that you…would like to see…” His voice trailed off._

_“Aramis fucking you? Hell, yeah.”_

_“What do you mean fucking me?”_

_“I’m sure you don’t need a picture. And for the record…..Aramis is always on top.”_

_Porthos smiled at Aramis and the younger musketeer smiled back.  Athos felt his legs go weak and his cock go hard. He closed his eyes and just jumped over the edge._

That’s how it all began.

And from that moment onwards Athos and Aramis had sex countless times while Porthos took his time jerking himself off, encouraged by the lustful picture he had before his eyes.

Always Aramis fucking Athos. Always Porthos watching them.

Until today.

That was the reason why Athos was being cautious. Or at least he was trying.

………………………..

 

“……. lost in your thoughts.”

He heard Aramis voice somewhere in the distance. He blinked twice.

“What?”

“I said I hope you don’t mind I had taken my clothes off while you were lost in in your thoughts.”

Aramis was already pretty much naked; he was in his breeches, an innocent smile painted on his face. That smile was probably the only thing that could still look innocent on that man. Athos pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath.

“Aramis, what do you want?”

His friend raised his eyebrows.

“Isn’t it obvious?”  He came closer to Athos and took his hand away from his face, then put a finger under his chin and made him look up at him. “I – want – you – tonight. Don’t you want me?” 

Athos swallowed hard. Aramis was so beautiful looking at him from above, bare chest and waves of dark hair falling over his eyes.

“I always want you.”

“Good! What’s the problem, then?”

“Porthos is not here.”

Aramis rolled his eyes.

“Today is not Friday.”

Friday was the only day of the week in which Aramis stayed with Porthos only. Actually, they all called it “Porthos Friday”. On any other day Aramis could choose between staying with his best friend, or go to find pleasure somewhere else. But not on Friday. Never on Friday. Friday was their exclusive day.

“That’s not the question. You didn’t tell him you came here to be with me.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“No reason. He didn’t ask, and I wouldn’t have told him if I were with a woman anyway. So what’s the difference?”

“That you are with me. And he’s not here. And it is the first time he’s not here. And it’s weird.”

“Why is it weird?”

Athos looked down at his own knees.

“I feel like if we were….cheating on him.”

“Athos, please.” Aramis sounded annoyed now. “Look, if you’re not interested just tell me and I’ll go to find fun somewhere else.”

“No.”

Athos put both his hands on his friend’s hips before he could even step just one millimetre away from him. Aramis grinned and caressed his hair, playing with it for a moment before gripping it and yanking his face up to make him look into his eyes. He bent down to kiss him and Athos moved his hands down to cup his ass. Still kissing, Aramis straddled him and began to grind down against him slowly. Athos let out a gasp.

“You’re wearing too much clothes.” Aramis whispered, his wet tongue now playing in his ear.

Any lingering regret that Athos still could have about what was about to happen went straight to hell (where he was probably going to go too) and he pulled his loose shirt over his head. He captured Aramis’ lips again and they pressed their chest together while their kiss grew deeper, skin burning and heavy breathing. They kissed hard for a few minutes before Aramis broke the kiss and put some distance between them. However, he still kept eye contact with Athos while his hand went down between their bodies to open his friend’s trousers; he pulled his cock out and took a firm grip. Athos shut his eyes. Aramis waited until he opened them again; when he had those blue eyes fixed on him again, he playfully bit his lower lip and also pulled his own cock out. He spit on one hand, took them and started jerking them both.

“So…” Aramis spoke casually while rubbing their cocks together. “Is your pretty tight ass ready for me tonight?”

Athos cheeks turned redder. He tried to catch his breath back. Aramis let out a mischievous little laugh and moved away from his friend. He stood up and finished removing his breeches. Fully erect he looked down at the older musketeer.

“I’ll fetch the oil. Get ready.”

Not wanting to loose time Athos also removed his own trousers and breeches. It was then when he realized he didn’t know what to do next. He knew “get ready” meant “tell me where do you want me to fuck you” and the truth was he wasn’t sure.

He finally went to the window and bent down. Aramis watched him from behind, he felt a wave of lust at the idea of fucking him while leaning against the window. He wet his lips and went to him.

“Good choice.”

Athos felt a chill when he heard his voice from behind. Aramis waited no more time and putting oil in his hand he started stroking himself. Athos waited patiently until his friend was ready, then Aramis took his ass with both hands and spread his cheeks to pour a generous amount of oil over his hole.

“Ready?”

Athos nodded, unable to speak. He could feel the cold glass against his fingers and bent down a little more, leaning himself against the window frame.

Aramis bit his lower lip before deciding to play a little bit with him, rubbing himself against his hole, nudging into him just a little and then pulling out again. Athos groaned in frustration. He was dying with anticipation, like every other time he found himself in the same situation. He wanted it so badly and yet he was always a little bit scared, even if he knew how wonderful the pleasure was after the initial discomfort was gone.  And despite all the nervousness, the naked truth was that he was desperate to have a good shag.

“Fuck me already! That’s an order!”

The younger musketeer smirked, of course he couldn’t disobey a direct order from a superior officer. He took a deep breath and thrust all the way in just in one movement. Athos arched his back and moaned; he felt a hot wave of pain mixed with pleasure; he leaned his forehead, sweaty hair falling down, against the cold window.

They both took a moment, their bodies accommodating to each other; then Aramis pulled his cock out only for a few seconds before starting pounding into him hard and merciless. He groaned, his hands firmly gripping Athos’ hips to keep him in place, hard and short thrusts, his balls slapping against his ass. Their moans and groans filling the room; Athos spread for him, bracing himself against the window, his hot breath leaving marks on the glass. Aramis let free one hand and reached for Athos’ cock. He took a firm grip and started jerking him.

Athos moaned deeper and his head fell down. Aramis leaned forward and helped him to support himself while changing his angle; his thrusts became even harder, he was panting over Athos’ back, he jerked him faster, tightening his grip.  Athos body began to shake and suddenly he came loudly. Aramis used his hand to squeeze every drop out of him while he also quivered, thrusted his cock deeply into him twice and came inside him with a long moan.

Exhausted they tried to prevent each other to collapse on the floor. Still panting they held their bodies together until they were able to move and to lay down right there. It took them a while to catch their breath back. Of course Aramis was the first to come back to life.

“I have to go.”

Athos kept staring at the ceiling.

“You could stay.”

Aramis smiled and kissed his forehead and before Athos could say anything else, he was already standing up.

“Have a good night.”

Athos waved his hand.

“Yeah, whatever.”

Aramis got his clothes back and left. Athos stayed there, unable to move. The floor was cold but his legs refused to cooperate and take him to bed.

“Meeeeh.” He thought before drifting away. “Who says one can’t sleep naked on the floor?”

 


	2. Porthos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Porthos (and his pillow) seems to be pondering his not-a-relationship with Aramis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 of my first multi-chapter story.
> 
> Little to say. 
> 
> Just... I hope you like it.
> 
> And as always, I'm sorry for my mistakes.  
> English verbs can be tricky. Even more in the past form.

**Porthos**

 

He had been thinking about it for weeks now; his head spinning, mulling over different options before making a decision. Or at least trying to make a decision. He even had had several talks with the pillow until late at night.  

The last one of those man-to-pillow talks took place precisely last night; he knew Aramis was not a home and technically he should not care about it. It was not a Friday and his lover, boyfriend, _friend_! was free to do his will.

Their little agreement that had worked so well in the beginning, was starting now to have a few weak points. Specifically, the biggest flaw was one: Porthos was in love with Aramis.

Of course he had always been in love with him; they had been best friends for years and the man was brave, loyal, charming and beautiful. Not many people could be immune to Aramis, and definitely Porthos was not one of them.

He liked to say they started flirting like a game; a stupid drinking game. But the truth was that none of them was as drunk as not to know what they were doing. What happened was that they could not keep on ignoring the heat between them; Porthos could not ignore the burning sensation in his groin anymore, every time Aramis touched him casually. Too many dirty dreams involving his friend, too many wanks thinking about him.  Therefore, he decided to put a stop to it and use the drinking game as an excuse to unleash the beast. To release the kraken.

Aramis on his part never discarded a chance to be worshiped and loved. He obviously found Porthos attractive and had feelings for him; feelings he was aware went beyond a fraternal love. However, he would have never dared to jeopardize their friendship before that night. The night when everything changed.

The first occasional encounters soon became a habit. And the habit soon became an addiction. However, no matter how well things went between them in this new stage of their _friendship_ ; Aramis never stopped taking other lovers. He spent more and more time with Porthos only, that was true, but their _relationship_ was not exclusive.

For months Porthos had been fine with that, but now…

He sighed.

Things were different now. Now he was IN LOVE with him. Love written in capital letters, and he couldn’t pretend he didn’t care about let him go with other people anymore. There was of course that _thing_ with Athos, but that was different. Athos was…. Well, Athos. He didn’t think of him as _a person_.

Random people having sex with Aramis; that was the problem. Those days just the mere thought of him with someone else was enough to make him sick.

Like last night.

They were having fun in a tavern, playing cards with Pierre and Luc. For once Aramis agreed to play with them instead of going after the waitress and Porthos was winning and laughing and having the time of his life. Not only because he was certainly winning every coin the poor musketeers could have in their pockets, but also because Aramis was sitting next to him; their knees casually touching, their arms casually touching, their hands casually touching from time to time, sending sparks to his whole body.

The excitement of their secret relationship, the forbidden heat spreading through his body, the satisfaction of a good cards game. Porthos was high on all that. And once Pierre and Luc decided to stop being stupid and left, he and Aramis stayed there exchanging lovely smiles and whispering secret dirty thoughts to each other.

There was a point when Porthos thought _we must leave now or we’ll end up doing it on the table right here_.

He was sure it was going to be a hell of a night.

It turned out it was not.

Suddenly the mood changed; Porthos couldn’t put the finger on what. Aramis’ warmth faded away and a few moments later he muttered an excuse about having a date somewhere and left the place.

Porthos didn’t know how long it took him to recover from the shock and also leave the place. All the way back to his rooms he couldn’t stop thinking about what just happened. The rage and the pain he was feeling, like a knife tearing his body apart, was not something new to him. It was, however, something long forgotten and now brought back to him once more.

He found himself crying.

His own tears felt strange to him. He hadn’t cry in long time. He could not fool himself anymore; he was not just having fun with Aramis, he was not fooling around him. He was utterly in love.

So it was after a long sleepless night when he took the decision of talking with his…friend. Some things had to change. He could not ignore his feelings anymore.

 “Enough is enough, Porthos.”

He told himself while looking at his reflection in a dirty mirror.

“Go and talk with Aramis, now. Tell him you love him but you can’t be with him unless he proves he feels the same for you. Tell him you need to feel that he’s investing something in this relationship. Tell him you need to feel he cares for you. No! that you need to feel that he loves you. Otherwise, this is over.”

_Fuck._

He couldn’t say that to him.

However, he had to tell him something, _anything_. He was going mad from all the agony and indecision he had been going through lately.

He put his hat on and found his way to Aramis’ rooms, making a mental list of all the things he was going to say. He had to do this; even if it might be the end of everything, in the long run it would be the best thing that could happen. To both of them.

……………………………………….

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

“Morning.”

“Hey, babe.”

Aramis smiled brightly and step aside to let his friend coming in.

The moment the door was closed Aramis pulled Porthos into a warm embrace that, despite everything, made him shiver with joy; he wondered how it was possible that he could feel this way just from being in his arms. Not to mention the sexual arousal that always came associated to be near Aramis.

Porthos sighed and tried to take a step back.

He failed.

Moreover, he also made the mistake of looking Aramis in the eye.  And then, in the fraction of a second, the whole discourse he had been practising went straight to hell. Aramis’ brown eyes left him helpless; and once he got lost in them, he forgot everything he wanted to say.

For one second, Porthos even had a mental picture of all those words actually growing legs, getting out of his head and walking through the door.

None of that mattered anymore.

The only thing that mattered now was that Aramis was leaning in to kiss him and his lips were only a few inches away.

Bye bye, reason.

Putting any previous thought aside, Porthos just smiled and kissed his beautiful boyfriend. Once more he had given in into Aramis’ presence -and his hot and wonderful kisses. If Aramis would promise him the sun, the stars and the moon, he would believe him no matter what.

 _To hell with reason._ _Does it really matter if we are the way we are? If he is the way he is?_

And while they were sharing a heated kiss; devouring each other’s lips, Porthos felt his knees going weak and knew he had to start all over again.

_You see, I am an idiot. In just the few moments this kiss is gonna last, I’m going back in time. Back to love you again. Therefore, I will have to forget you again._

Now that he finally had decided to have a serious talk with him!

Did he really need to have that talk though? He was assuming Aramis was not going to change to be with him, but what if he would? Or even if he did not change, was that tiny little detail so important? After all they loved each other anyway. Even if their relationship was not quite _normal_ , it was a relationship still the same.

He was in love with Aramis. Perhaps he should never have fell for him. But he did, and he couldn’t change that now.

“Are you fine?”

Aramis asked, feeling their kiss ending.

“Yeah, sure. I was just thinking…”

“Yeah?”

“We can’t be late again. Remember what the Captain told us the last time.”

Aramis grimaced with annoy at the idea of cleaning the stables like if they were new recruits.

“As much as I would like to stay here and make sweet morning love to you, you’re right.”  He gave Porthos a last peck on the lips and took his own hat. “Let’s move.”

Porthos swallowed hard at the choice of words that Aramis had made. He didn’t say _fuck you_ , he said _make love_.  It was on those moments when he was pretty sure Aramis loved him. It was on those moments when he was content just with knowing that, despite everything else.

 _Everything else_ , however, was what happened last night. It was what happened many other nights. _Everything else_ , was the pain and the suffering tormenting his heart.

How much more could Porthos took before his heart break?

He remembered a dream he once had; a dream in which he was walking along the shore, somebody had written their names and their love story in the sand.

Everything had been taken away by the tide.

He shook his head, trying to push those thoughts aside, and followed Aramis to the streets of Paris. He was ready to turn left when he noticed his friend went to the right.

“Aren’t we going to get Athos?” He frowned.

Aramis cleared his throat.

“Oh, well. He’s probably there already. You know him.”

“Yeah…. I guess you’re right. Still, we could…”

“I thought you don’t want us to be late.” Aramis noticed his own sharp words and tried to soft his speech. “I mean, I’m sure he’s there. It’s quite late.”

Porthos shrugged.

“Ok, then.”

They kept on walking. Aramis leading the way. Porthos a little behind him, pensive. If he had not been so busy worrying about his own problems, he might have noticed that Aramis didn’t look him in the eye while they had this little conversation about Athos.

But he didn’t.

And so the day begun.

 

 

  


 

 


	3. Love, sex and crazy requests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Porthos is determined to have "the talk" with Aramis.  
> Athos makes a confession.  
> Aramis faces a moral dilemma.  
> And somewhere in Paris, a pig runs for his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 of my first multi-chapter story.
> 
> I had to invite new characters to the story.  
> Treville, Richelieu and Constance make a brief appearence.
> 
> Hope you like it. 
> 
> I don't know where this plot is going.... 
> 
> x)

**Love, sex and crazy requests**

 

“What a boring day. And it is not even midday yet”

Porthos yawned, trying to shoo a fly away.

“I’d give anything to be on a mission.”

Athos gave him a funny look.

“If I recall correctly, during the last mission you said you wanted to be back in Paris and stay here for a long time.”

Porthos grunted.

“I take that back.”

“Well, luckily for you, my friend, something seems to be going on at the market square.”

Athos pointed with his head towards the end of the street, to the arch giving access to the square. From where they were standing, they could see a big cloud of dust in the air and hear the crowd going into uproar.

“Let’s go.”

 

Whatever they thought they were going to find was not as close as what they really found there.  There was indeed something going on; a disturbance caused not by criminals but by… a pig.

A pig that running away from his fatal fate had entered the market square trying to find some shelter. A few men were trying to catch the animal and failing miserably. The crowd seemed to be cheering up for the pig and there were even people placing their bets on which of the men would catch the animal. Or even if they could do it at all.

Athos and Porthos watched the scene with amusement; even if the pig was causing a big trouble there was nothing wrong on the unusual picture. At least it was some distraction on that boring morning. 

Suddenly a female figure appeared in front of them, arms akimbo.

“Monsieur Athos, shouldn’t you do something about this?”

“Madame Bonacieux.” Athos bowed his head. “We are the King’s Musketeers, not pig catchers.”

The woman opened her mouth to reply, but she didn’t have time. Porthos pointed at something.

“That is our business, though.”

Athos looked over there and saw two men taking advantage of the situation to steal money from one of the food stalls.

“If you’ll excuse us.”

The two musketeers, eager to have some fun too, ran after the thieves leaving the woman behind.

Madame Bonacieux shook her head.

 _Musketeers_.

She knew those two and, indeed, they might be good soldiers and even good men. However, they were ruffians too.  Athos was a drunkard and Porthos a game cheater, to say the least. She wondered where the “third wheel” was this time; Aramis, the heartbreaker.

She sighed. Thank God there were only three of them.

The pig got to escape from the square leaving a wonderful chaos behind.

……………………………………….

 

Aramis changed his weight from one foot to another and looked at Treville.

“Captain, why are we here? What on earth could the Cardinal want from me?” He asked in a low voice.

“I don’t know.” Treville whispered back.

“Of course you do.”

Treville took a deep breath and looked at the young man.

“You’ll know soon. Remember I don’t like this. I don’t agree with this. But it’s a direct order from the…”

The sound of a heavy door opening interrupted them and the Cardinal came into the chamber.

“Captain Treville, thank you for bringing him. You may leave now.”

“I would like to stay.”

Richelieu smiled.

“Oh, I see. Daddy issues. Well, I don’t see why not. Please gentlemen, take a seat.”

“I’d rather stand.” The musketeer said.

The Cardinal stared at him. Of course he knew him from seeing him around the palace. Never really payed attention to him though. He was young and good looking for sure, but probably he was also as dull as a watermelon.

He raised an eyebrow.

“And your name was…”

“Aramis.”

“Ah, yes. I’ll try to remember it in the future.”

He waited for some answer that never came and tried not to lose his temper already.   _Remember he’s plain as a watermelon_.

“Well, Aramis, I guess you’re wondering why did I summon you. It is a very simple matter; France needs you.”

“And what can I do for France?” Aramis asked cautious.

“It is all about a woman.”

Aramis frowned.

………………………………………

 

With the thieves in jail Athos and Porthos were back at the garrison, dusting themselves off and laughing about how the pig, during his escape, incidentally helped them to catch the bad guys.

“Wait until we tell Aramis.”

Porthos face turned serious.

“Yeah… Why do you think Richelieu sent for him?”

“I don’t know, my friend, but coming from the Cardinal, it can never be good.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

They sat in the stairs and looked at the gates. Their cheerful mood gone. Athos looked around, he couldn’t see anyone but still he lowered his voice.

“How are things going with him?”

Porthos took a moment to consider his answer.

“I love him.”

“I know.”

“No.” Porthos turned to look him in the eye. “I really mean it. I love you too but I’m not in love with you. You see? I’m in love with him. To my bones.”

“Oh”

“But I can’t be with him.”

“Did you break up?” Athos tried not to yell.

“Shhh! No…. But I want to talk with him and I… I guess it’ll be over soon. I can’t stand it no more. I want him to be with me and only with me. Every time I know he’s with someone else…. I want to kill those people. I can’t stop picturing him with them and…”

Porthos stopped talking, he realised he was giving too much information. He trusted Athos, but he didn’t want to sound like a silly teenager needed of affection and even less he wanted anyone to have pity on him. Those thoughts and feelings were private.

He glanced at his friend and noticed he was pale.

“Hey! Are you fine?”

Athos swallowed hard. He had been thinking about telling him the truth all morning. He really felt like if they had cheated on him; Aramis and Porthos were a couple, not matter they don’t realize it yet. And now Aramis had sex with him and Porthos didn’t know.

Not only the sweet guilt was killing him, now Porthos was confessing his true feelings about the situation and… Athos couldn’t keep the secret any longer.  He took a deep breath.

“I have to tell you something.”

 

……………………………………

 

“Justine de Montespan, that’s her name”

“And what does she have to do with me?”

“Mademoiselle de Montespan has something that belongs to our beloved King Louis. Something she should not have.”

“And why does she have it?”

Richelieu tried to hide a sigh.

“The King gave it to her.”

Aramis gave him a confused look. Before he could ask anything, the Cardinal kept on talking.

“Sometimes men… do things they regret later, don’t we? I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.”

Aramis understood now. The Mademoiselle in question had been getting the King’s affection and probably got a gift as a souvenir from their _friendship_ ; a gift that she should not have received.

“Am I mistaken if I presume your guards have already tried to retrieve this thing and failed?”

The Cardinal had to swallow his pride there. The pretty boy was not stupid, after all.  He tried to smile with some dignity.

“No.”

“I don’t see how can I help you.”

“My friend, Aramis! You have to seduce the woman!”

He said this as if he was telling anyone the best of the news. Aramis almost chocked, he heard a disbelieving sound coming from Treville next to him.

“No.” He stated.

“You don’t get to choose, I’m afraid.”

“I am a soldier. A good soldier. I would give my life for the King, for France. You can send me away on the most dangerous mission and I will never say no. But I won’t hurt any woman on purpose just because the King was stupid enough as not to know when to stop his game!”

“Aramis!”

Treville felt the urge to slap him in order to make him quiet. He looked at the Cardinal, panicking.  The older man was looking at the musketeer, eyes wide open.

“For the sake of everybody in this room, I will ignore your words. Be careful though, I won’t be this magnanimous next time.”

Aramis raised his chin, but remained quiet.

Richelieu came closer and looked him in the eye.

“You’ll do what you have to do. You’re a King’s musketeer and this order comes from the King. Will you deny your King’s direct command?”

Aramis felt his blood boiling in his veins. That was not fair! What kind of order was that? But he had no choice, indeed. As a soldier, refusing an order could be a reason to be expelled from the regiment. As a musketeer, refusing an order from the King would lead to a death sentence.

He bowed his head.

Richelieu smiled a satisfied smile.

 

………………………..

 

Athos had taken Porthos to his room, wanting to have in private the kind of conversation they were about to have. He thought it would be a good idea until they got there, and suddenly it was like bringing Porthos to the very scene of the crime. To the place where everything happened. To the place where he betrayed him.

“Are you gonna tell me what the hell is going on here?”

Athos took a bottle of vine and swallowed.

“You know I don’t like talking about our…special relationship, right?”

Despite everything, Porthos couldn’t help but grinning.  Athos was a real expert in the art of _we all know what we did last night, but that’s not a reason to talk about it_.

“I know. And?”

“And…Did you see Aramis last night?”

Porthos didn’t want to tell him about what happened in the tavern, he was still hurt. He chose to lie.

“Briefly. I was playing cards, he told me he had a date.”

“Do you know where did he go?”

“No.”

Athos swallowed more wine and closed his eyes.

“He came here.” He muttered.

Porthos blinked a few times.

Athos opened one eye and saw his friend staring at him, confused. Probably he was thinking they just had a talk or something. Athos realized he had to be blunter about the whole thing.

“He came here to have sex…with me. I’m sorry. I’m a dirty traitor.” He closed his eyes again.

To his surprise, he heard Porthos laughing.

“A traitor? Why? He fucked you hundreds of times before.”

Athos seemed to be mortified by his words and Porthos laughed again.

“You weren’t here this time. You’re his boyfriend. You’re always here when it happens. It felt wrong. I mean, it felt amazing. But wrong!”

Porthos couldn’t stop laughing now and even if Athos was still mortified, he couldn’t help but joining him. Soon they were hugging each other and both laughing like maniacs.

“I thought you were going to kill me” Athos said once he got his breath back. “After you just told me earlier…”

“Athos, my friend, you are…. Athos.” Porthos hit him on the shoulder. “You’re Athos.”

“So…We have established my name, and hit me. Thanks.”

Porthos smiled fondly at him.

“What happens between you and Aramis, what happens between the three of us, I’m okay with that. I like it. And I know you’re not trying to drift Aramis away from me.”

“But you just said…”

“I was referring to…other people. Strangers laying their hands on him. Him needing to get his kicks elsewhere.”

“I think I understand you. He’s our Aramis. I mean, it’s not that we own him or anything. But he’s ours. He’s yours.”

“Well, he’s definitely not mine.” He spoke in a bittersweet undertone.

“Do you still want to talk to him?”

Porthos took a deep breath.

“Yes. I’m going mad here. He will have to choose; to be with me, or to be with the rest of Paris.”

Athos passed him the bottle of wine.

That was going to be a hell of a battle.


	4. smoke and mirrors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aramis starts working on his special mission.  
> Porthos' desperation grows deeper.  
> Athos is not happy.  
> We don't know what happened to the pig.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what I had in mind was a short story (around 3 chapters) about jealous Porthos and whore Aramis.  
> And then...  
> it got out of my hands.
> 
> So now we have the special appearance of the King and the Queen.
> 
> And I should go and review my tags 'cause everything is changing pretty fast....
> 
> ^_^
> 
> Thanks to everyone leaving kudos and commenting!

 

**Smoke and mirrors**

 

It was not until the afternoon when the two friends managed to get a glimpse of Aramis. They run to his side and even if he welcomed them with a smile, he looked tense.

“What does the Cardinal want with you?” Athos asked, straight to the point.

Aramis raised his eyebrows, as if he had just remembered an unimportant thing.

“Oh! That! Nothing, really. Stupid Dupont; who didn’t have enough with losing both his woman and his pride in the same week, and now is telling stories about me. And not even good ones.” He sighed dramatically and looked at the heavens above. “Forgive him.”

Athos and Porthos exchanged a look. They had had fun teasing Dupont, one of the most annoying man in the Red Guard, after Aramis had charmed in ten minutes the woman he had been trying to seduce during the last six months. What is more, they knew Dupont was, indeed, stupid and able to go around telling stories about Aramis. 

What didn’t make sense was the fact that those stories not only actually reached the Cardinal, but also made the most powerful man in the country to want to see the musketeer _and_ Treville.

“So gentlemen, I’ve heard I missed the opportunity to see a pig chase today! When was the last one? About a year maybe?”

“Can’t remember.” Porthos simply answered.

“My point exactly.” Aramis smiled, he seemed to be more relaxed now, open and easy as always. “What a day…. What a day…” He muttered happily while taking his horse to the stables.

His two friends stayed behind. Porthos came closer to Athos.

“He’s lying.”

Athos made a sound.

“Lying? I don’t know. But there is definitely something he’s not telling us.”

Porthos grunted.

“I hate it when he doesn’t trust us. What do we do now?”

“We’ll wait and see.”

 

Nothing remarkable happened during the next few hours. Aramis was too busy pretending everything was normal, and the other two musketeers were too busy pretending they believed that everything was normal.

Still they had a nice time together, talking about nonsenses and laughing. Porthos felt the weight in his chest became lighter; he still wanted to talk to Aramis, but everything seemed to be better and brighter when he was around.

That was one of the reasons why Porthos’ emotions were so changeable lately. One second he could feel the loving gaze of Aramis on him, the next the man was kissing some other woman.

It was so easy to fool himself around Aramis, everything became so clear next to him. The cross of the special nature of his boyfriend so easy to bear.

It was later, when he was on his own again, when doubt, fear and pain crawled into his head and his heart, making him shiver. Making him hating himself and sometimes, even hating Aramis.

And that night was not going to be an exception.

Suddenly Aramis announced his intention to retire; Athos made a discreet gesture to Porthos, pressing him to speak up. 

The dark skinned musketeer held the arm of his lover for half a second.

“Can I see you later?” He asked with thick voice.

He also wanted to say _we need to talk_ , but he couldn’t find the strength to say those specific words out loud.

Aramis smiled fondly.

“Not today, my dear Porthos. Not today”.

He bowed his head and turned on his heels. The second he did this, his smile faded away replaced by a gesture of pain: nevertheless, his friends never got to see this.

Athos shook his head in disbelief. Aramis was really pushing his luck with Porthos there. He knew his friend had feelings, strong feelings, for Porthos. Why to put everything at risk for… the thrill of having other people?

“Porthos, would you like to…”

Porthos raised a hand, cutting him off.

“I want to be alone.”

 

Athos sighed. Jokes about Aramis thinking with his dick were pretty normal within the regiment, and the man always seemed to accept them with amusement and even pride.

Athos himself find them funny. He remembered it was only the previous night when he had been the one enjoying the attentions of Aramis’ dick.

Today, however, he had found out about Porthos’ true feelings and everything was different now. He was not amused anymore. He was, in fact, annoyed by Aramis’ attitude and how blind he was towards Porthos’ devotion to him.

He would not interfere. He had no right to interfere.

But he would keep an extra eye on the whole situation.            

………………………………………..

Aramis looked at himself in one mirror and hated every line of his face.

He was standing in the middle of a very elegant room and ready to meet Justine de Montespan for the first time, but all he wanted to do was running to Porthos.

_Porthos…._

The only place in the world where he wanted to be and the only place where he couldn’t go to.  Not after last night, not after tonight.

He tried not to focus on those thoughts right now.              

Luckily, in that moment a young woman entered the room. She was wearing a purple and black dress and was, despite his bright big blue eyes, not especially beautiful. She looked at him visibly confused.

Aramis bowed to her.

“My name is Aramis, of the King’s Musketeers. I am here to escort you to the palace for the dinner tonight.”

“I know. I received the notification. It’s just that I still find hard to believe that I can be in any danger. This is a very peaceful area.”

“If rumours hadn’t reached you, is because we are doing our job very well and I’m glad to know about it. However, I can assure you there have been several reported assaults on this month.”

“Oh.” The woman looked away from a few seconds, thinking, and then again she turned her eyes to the man before her. She smiled. That gesture made her look prettier.

“In that case, I trust you with my life.”

Aramis smiled back.

“You won’t regret it, Mademoiselle.”

 

……………………………………

Aramis waited outside the big dinner room where the King, the Queen and the nobles from Paris were having fun on that night.

He looked through a window, there was only darkness out there.

The same darkness clutching his heart. He leaned his forehead against the cold glass.

“Not feeling well?”

Startled, he turned around quickly to see Cardinal Richelieu. He felt a wave of rage going through his body.

“Once the soirée is over, you must escort Mademoiselle de Montespan back to her house.”

“I know.”

“And stay there.”

Aramis frowned, visibly disgusted. 

“I was expecting to have more time to gain her trust.”

The Cardinal was about to speak, but Aramis cut him off.

“After all, we don’t want her to suspect anything, do we? If we rush things, she might be suspicious about my sudden interest in her and make a connection with the King’s _missing_ letters."

Richelieu gave it a second thought.

“Just do whatever you have to do.”

Aramis bowed his head, and the Cardinal retired back to the party.

He was eager to approach to that woman, Adèle Bessette. He had been looking at her during the whole dinner, and she seemed to be enthralled about it.  Maybe it was time for a direct approach. The Cardinal licked his lips, thinking about it.

Aramis watched him go and clenched his fists.

One day.

One day it will payback time.

 

……………….

It was already quite late when Aramis finally reached his rooms. He hadn’t done anything physically intense, but he was exhausted. Of course waiting for hours in the palace with nothing to do except counting the floor tiles was a tiresome activity.

He had taken Justine back home and said his farewell. It had been a quite short first movement the one he had done during that night, but that was exactly the point. To make it casual.

He took his cape and hat off and looked around him. He felt lonely and empty. The place was as cold as his heart.

Would be insane to go to Porthos?

Of course it would be!

The idea of being in Porthos’ arms, to be close to him, to feel his warmth…. He would give anything to sleep with him tonight. He needed him more than never before.

Aramis bite his lower lip, thinking furiously.   There had been times before, when he had gone to Porthos after coming back from a date.

Porthos hated, however, the smell of other women’s perfum on him, and that was practically the only rule in their relationship: Aramis always had to clean himself before sleeping with his… _friend_.

Why not to go tonight? He didn’t even had sex with Justine!

And God, he needed Porthos right now.

He finally made a decision.

…………………………………..

 

Porthos heard the knock on the door and knew it was Aramis.

He was determined not to open.

He made the promise to himself not to open.

If Aramis was thinking he could go and fuck God knows who and then come back to him like nothing, he was very wrong.

It was true that kind of situation had happened over the last year, but not again. Not this time.

The sound stopped.

Porthos had won.

He should be happy and proud of himself.

He was not.

He imagined Aramis leaving and it was too much.

He let out a desperate growl of frustration and exasperation with himself and jumped from his bed to run and open the door.

Against his will he let out a sigh of relief when he still found Aramis there in the dark corridor.

Something was wrong.

Aramis pose was not his usual “let me pass and I’ll tell you everything”. His post-sex smirk and arrogance weren’t there and he only looked terrible sad and tired.

With hesitation he entered in his friend personal space and held himself to his body.

_What the hell…_

……………………….

 

Far from there, King Louis was pacing his chamber, his hands clasped behind him.

He was thinking about Justine de Montespan and how to get rid of her.  While it was true that for a few months the girl had been a novelty to him, now he found her annoying.

She was not pretty, but she was always smiling and telling jokes. Louis loved jokes, and women in the court were not funny. They were too worried about being polite, about being perfect, about being decorous. Of course women there were not supposed to tell jokes. But that Justine did it. And he found it charming from the first day. She was so….carefree. It was refreshing.

But now what he found lovely at first, had turned to be annoying. He was tired of hearing her laugh. That night had been a nightmare.

So yes, he had to get rid of her. Not killing her, of course. But… well, sending her away.

He would have to get his letters to her back, of course. But Richelieu had assured him the problem would be soon over.

Now, in order to send that annoying Justine woman away he needed the help from the Queen. He smiled and took a secret corridor leading to her chamber.

 

Anne d’Austrie was about to get into bed when heard the soft sound of a door opening. Astonished, she realised it was the secret door; meaning the King was visiting her.  She tried not to look unhappy about it.

“I was not expecting you, my Lord.”

“There is something I’d like to discuss with you, if you are amenable.”

_Discuss? Now? Oh well…_

“Of course.” She smiled.

“It is one of your duties to make sure that your ladies-in-waiting, as well as other noble women at the court, have a good marriage.”

The Queen was not sure if that was a question or a remark.

“Indeed.”

“I would like you to arrange the marriage of one of them.”

Anne frowned, lost at first. It was late and she was tired, and she couldn’t see the point of his husband getting worried for something that it was clearly not his duty.

And then she understood.

She understood and yet she kept herself in place like the kind of woman she was raised up to be.

“And who is the… lucky one?”

The King had the decency to look away.

“Justine de Montespan.”

“And would you like her to get a husband here in Paris or far away from the court?”

“I don’t care what you choose to do. Just do it as soon as possible.”

The King left leaving the Queen alone once more.

She didn’t cry. She felt the weight of his betrayal but she didn’t cry. Men were like that. And she was not in love with Louis anyway. That made the situation more tolerable, although not less disgusting.

She would try to find a good husband for Justine. She was not the one to blame, and Anne was not willing to punish her for something that was not her fault.

…………………………………………..

 

Porthos held Aramis in his arms until he fell asleep.

He had tried to make him talk, to tell him what was wrong, but his friend didn’t want to tell him anything. So once Porthos was sure that he was not hurt, that nobody had hurt him, he stopped pushing him and just took him in his arms.

 _We will have time in the morning_.

When Aramis fell asleep, he rose up quietly and left the bed. He hated himself for being like this. For being weak when it came to Aramis.

He was so determined to make him suffer this time. But then he opened the door and…. Aramis needed him!

 _And if he hadn’t need you. If he had been his usual arrogant self, still you would have let him to come in_.

He was on the verge of crying.

He wanted to put a stop to whatever they had, and at the same time he was so unable to do it…. Every time he saw Aramis, he thought that maybe…. Maybe.

Maybe. Maybe.

Like now. When he was in his bed. When he came to him so desperate, finding in Porthos the only person in the world to make him feel in peace.

This time was one of those _maybe_.

Only that it wasn’t. Porthos had been through it already.

 

What Aramis was offering was just smoke and mirrors.

 

Porthos’ head knew it.

 

His heart, on the other hand, was determined to keep it suicidal.

 

 


	5. It must be love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the calm before the storm, Aramis and Porthos share an intimate moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally some smut for you in this chapter.  
> I realized I used the tag "porn" and then I only used in the first chapter, so I thought "I should fix this."
> 
> This is, therefore, a transition chapter before the storm.  
> A moment for Porthos and Aramis to share their passion.
> 
> It is very difficult to write smut in English.  
> Everything sounded dirtier and better in my head, in Spanish.
> 
> Still, as always, I try my best :)

 

  **It must be love**

 

Porthos took a last look of the two dirty coins in his hand and sighed.  He handed them to the baker man and, in exchange, took a hot round bread. He put it in the bag together with a solitary apple and flung the bag over his shoulder.

It was early in the morning and Porthos had been out in the streets for a while now, seeing Paris waking up.  He only had a couple hours of sleep after Aramis came.

He had been watching him until he felt his eyelids so heavy it was painful to keep his eyes open. Aramis was so beautiful asleep as he was; he traced his gaze to his face and, softly, caressed the dark waves of his hair.

Porthos was dying to get in the bed and fall asleep next to him. There was something holding him back, though.

It would only be a stolen moment, not a real one.

He didn’t know why Aramis was there, but clearly coming to him hadn’t been his first option for the night. In the end, Porthos put two chairs together and tried to catch some uncomfortable sleep.

In the morning he realized he didn’t have anything to offer to Aramis as a breakfast. Therefore, he took the few coins he still had in his pockets and went out to fetch some food. He did want to talk with him about last night; he wanted to know why Aramis was so sad when he came to him. And that was a conversation that it was best to have with some food in their stomachs. Besides, he didn’t want the man he loved to be hungry in the morning after whatever had happened during the night.

 _The man I love_ ….

Would it be possible for them to have a normal formal relationship?

 _Keep the faith_.

He could hear his whole heart yelling.

Besides, today it was Friday. It was their day, and on that night they finally would have time to be together and talk. Or to be together and fuck.  The order of factors does not change the product.

Today was Porthos Friday.

And that was a fact.

…………………………

 

Aramis woke up only to find nobody was there.

The other side of the bed was cold, meaning Porthos had left long ago. He sat up and looked around, he spotted two chairs together and a blanket over them.  So it was not that Porthos had left his side, it was that he had rather slept on a chair that next to him.

He totally deserved it.  He run a hand through his hair.

The whole mess with the Cardinal and Justine de Montespan was just a mere anecdote in the end.  The important thing there was the nature of his feelings for Porthos and how cowardly he was behaving towards him.

Two nights ago he had left Porthos in that tavern and run to fuck Athos instead. He was having so much fun with Porthos, it was such a brilliant promising night. And then… He suddenly got scared of the intensity of his own emotions and escaped from there like the rat he was.

For he was a rat. No matter how popular he was among others, deep inside Aramis was nothing.

He would not cry. He was who he was. He would not cry.

He promised himself that once the whole business with Mademoiselle de Montespan was over, he would behave better towards Porthos. He still had time to fix things. Besides, it was Friday. They would be together on that night.

He heard noises at the door. 

 _Porthos_! _He is back_!

He resisted the urge to jump from the bed. Instead he just stayed there and tugged the covers up to his chin.

…………………………….

 

He found Aramis awake, but in the same place where he left him when dawn broke.

“Still in bed?”

He came closer and sit on the side, to look at him.

“I thought you were gone.”

Aramis pouted.

It was lovely, and Porthos found himself grinning at the idea of that same pouting man before him could also be a high skilled killer in a battle. He shook his head.

“I was gone. To get you some breakfast.”

Both men felt their stomachs roaring at the mention of food.

“Don’t get too excited. It’s just bread and one apple.” Porthos shrugged.

Aramis’ brown eyes look at him full of… ¿love? Oh, in those moments Porthos really believed it was love. What else could it be?

He watched him tugging the bed covers away and coming closer.  He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against his lips.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Porthos muttered, trembling.

He was so in love and wanted so badly to believe they had a chance, that he pushed all his fears away and bathed himself in the _this must be love_ feeling of the present moment.

What kind of sorcerer Aramis was? That could make him forget everything, that could make him believe in anything, that could make him fall under his spell with just one little kiss?

Aramis leaned forward again, and their lips met for a second time. It was a firm and more demanding kiss this time; Aramis’ tongue stroking along his bottom lip and into his mouth. He withdrew for a second time and their eyes met.

The heat, the invisible thread of their passion pulling them together like magnets. They took a deep breath, almost a sigh, at the same time and this made them smile.

Suddenly Porthos pulled Aramis atop him on the bed, and the marksman straddled his hips. He leaned over and continued to kiss him, longer and deeper. His hunger for Porthos reaching the south of their bodies and making their cocks stir in anticipation. Aramis sat up and quickly removed his lose shirt. Porthos looked at him with transfixed eyes; his lean body, soft pale skin, not ordinary at all brown eyes, mouth full of desire. He sat up to claim that mouth again, he couldn’t stop kissing Aramis. They were both filled with emotions, a thick heat surrounding them, sharing long passionate kisses mixed with short frantic ones; their mouths clashing together and their breaths heavy and ragging.

Then Aramis grabbed the bottom of Porthos’ shirt and pulled it off his strong body. He pushed his lover back down and moving to his side, he didn’t lose more time and removed his trousers, Porthos lifted his hips to help him and closed his eyes. Aramis stopped to look at his muscled and strong body and his mouth watered. He enjoyed looking at Porthos’ body for years before they got together, the man was beautiful, even a blind man could see it.

Before sentimentalism got over him, Aramis grabbed the base of his cock, making Porthos gasp. He stroked him a few times before lowering his head and licking him with his tongue, making it wet before taking him in his mouth.  Porthos let out a deep moan, tilting his head back and reaching down to stroke his boyfriend’s dark hair. They settled into a rhythm, Aramis’ lips sliding up and down. Porthos lost track of time, when suddenly he felt cold. He raised his head to see what was going on, and saw Aramis looking at his cock, mesmerized.

“Aramis?”

He blinked and stood up, looking at him.

“Fuck me, Porthos.”

Porthos couldn’t help but grinning and Aramis laughed at the sight of this. It was not often that Aramis asked to be under him and they both knew it. The dark skinned man watched him taking his trousers off and opening his arms, looking at him from above.

“Well?”

Porthos huffed.

“Do I always have to do everything?”

He was beaming, nevertheless. He moved away to find the oil, while it was Aramis’ turn to stretch himself on the bed, making an exhibition of every movement. Porthos shook, not even trying to hide his smile, his head in pretended disbelief. He knelt on the bed between his legs and poured some oil into his hands.

He took his semi hard cock in his hand, caressing him slowly. Aramis purred, closing his eyes to enjoy the feeling. Porthos continued moving his hand up and down along his shaft. Aramis moaned softly and Porthos lowered his head to take him in his mouth, his lips and his tongue engulfing him.

In a few seconds, Aramis was hard a rock. He spread his legs wider and Porthos find the way to his buttocks and to the hot spot between them. Never releasing Aramis’ cock from his mouth, he begun teasing his hole, making Aramis lift his lips in anticipation. Porthos put a hand on his flat stomach, keeping him down in place while he abandoned his cock just for a few seconds. He needed to pour much more oil in his hand. Aramis protested, even if he knew it was necessary.

Once he was satisfied, Porthos took his cock back in his mouth while his hand went back to spread his cheeks, finding again his hole and carefully inserting a finger inside him. Aramis arched his back and then relaxed again, he wanted more.  A second finger joined the first and he uttered a small cry of pleasure, Porthos felt his cock pressing up against his throat as Aramis involuntary thrusted into his mouth. He fought back the urge of leaving his cock and forced himself to relax, as his fingers started sliding back and forth inside Aramis.

He heard his lover moaning and this time he did left his hard member; he was about to add a third finger and wanted to see Aramis’ face. It was not often that Aramis played bottom, but he could take it so easily….that it was like if he was the one being fucked almost daily.

Porthos stared at him, fascinated. Aramis was panting, head flung back, back arched, parted lips muttering _more_ … _más_ …. _Dame_ _más_.

Porthos used the other hand to begin coating his own cock with the oil. He loved bringing Aramis up to the limit of hearing him babbling incoherent dirty words in Spanish. He too had learned a few over the last year.

Suddenly Aramis gasped and opened his eyes. He looked straight into him; brown eyes turned dark with lust and need.

“Your cock. Now!”

Porthos smirked and withdrew his fingers, positionating himself between Aramis’s thighs; he spread his legs and bit his lower lip, waiting for Porthos to fill him.

Porthos hold his thick hard shaft by the base and slowly pushed into him, using one strong hand to keep Aramis in place. A cry of intense pleasure filled the room. Porthos waited a moment before pulling his cock out, only to pushed into him once more. He repeated the action a few times, until he felt Aramis was totally ready for him. He wrapped his legs around him, holding him, making the penetration deeper, and Porthos laid over him and begun to thrust. They kissed, tongues meeting in a wet dance and Aramis threw his arms around Porthos’ neck.

They broke the messy kiss and Aramis started moving his hips rapidly, slamming into him. Porthos used his left forearm to keep himself steady while his cock throbbed deep inside Aramis. His right hand slipped between their bodies and grabbed hard his lover’s cock.

“Joder!” He gasped out loud in surprise.

Porthos smirked. Still babbling in Spanish, then. That was good.

He moved his hand up and down, with a steady grip, as the same pace he was fucking Aramis against the mattress. His shameless moans only encouraged Porthos to thrust faster, slamming his hard cock into him again and again.

“Take it!.... Take it!” Porthos groaned.

Aramis felt a wave of pain and pleasure; that thick cock filling him, making him moan, and curse, and cry. He knew Porthos was almost there, he could feel it by the way he was panting now. They both were sweating and their bodies couldn’t keep that rhythm for much longer. Then Porthos growled and slammed his cock deep into Aramis’ ass; his balls smacking loudly against him. He clenched his teeth and held is hands tight into Aramis’ waist while he was coming inside him. He didn’t stop thrusting back and forth, though. Aramis took his own cock and stroke himself hard, his body shaking feeling Porthos’ cum filling his ass, until his own cock erupted and his mouth released a long whimper.

Porthos withdrew himself and collapsed on the bed, next to Aramis, who just laid there unable to move. After a few minutes, they somehow managed to pull the covers over them and moved into each other’s arms. They kissed.

Porthos had to fight back the urge of saying _I love you_.  Despite everything, he still remembered who he was with.

They kissed some more, lazy and sleepy.

………………………………………….

 

Angrily, Athos tugged the covers away and looked at them.

 _Of course_! _Why would I expect anything less from you two_!

His first idea was to yell at them, but he gave it a second thought and something else crossed his mind. He smiled devilishly and fetched a bucket of cold water.

No mercy.

He poured the water on them.

They jumped up like springs; disoriented, naked, panting, looking around trying to find a weapon out of instinct.

Athos let out a malicious loud laugh.

“What the fuck??”

They both looked at him with murder eyes and for a second, Athos considered it might have not been a good idea, and feared for his life. But he recovered and pulled rank quickly.

“Do you two know what time is it? Do you two know what bunch of lies did I have to tell the Captian to justify you weren’t there?”

At least they had the decency to look mortified and remained in silence. Cold water dripping down from their hair.

Then Aramis opened his mouth as to say something.

“Don’t want to know!” Athos cut him off, his best _I’m not dealing with your shit_ face on display.  “Put your clothes on! I’ll wait outside.”

Then he turned around and once he was sure they couldn’t see him, he let out a big smile. That had been fun. Something he would talk about for years.

_Oh, remember that one time when I woke you up with cold water? What a glorious moment!_

He was also happy because, even if he was really angry at that moment, finding them curled and asleep together seemed to be a good thing. Maybe Aramis didn’t go out last night after all.

Ten minutes later his friends came out, still pissed off but clearly resigned with what happened.

“What did you tell the Captain?” asked Porthos.

“He believes you are drunk and unconscious into some ditch. I just nodded.”

“And?”

“You’ll have to clean the stables today.”

“What? We’re not freshmen!” Aramis showed his indignation.

Athos raised an eyebrow.

“Think about it next time.”

“You’re having too much fun today, huh?’”

Athos tried to hide a smile and failed.

“And the day has just begun.”

They all couldn’t help but laughing as they went over the streets of Paris, like they did countless of times before. Side by side, enjoying life, ready to face anything.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Into the woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, shit happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took me longer than usual to update.
> 
> However, this chapter is also longer than the previous ones *wink wink*
> 
> I stole the title (and some of the lines) from one episode of Buffy. I confess my crime.
> 
> Oh btw!!
> 
> Thank you Kitacular for the little help you provided me!! You're so posh!! I love you!!  
> Hahaha ; )

**6\. Into the woods**

 

Athos took a second bite at one green apple before pushing a chair away from his two friends.

“Gentlemen, you stink.”  He said wrinkling his nose, verging on exaggeration.

Aramis whimpered.

“I hate stables duty. It makes no good to my skin.”

Porthos rolled his eyes.

“I had fun on my part.”

“Of course you did.” He lowered his voice. “Your ass is fine.”

Porthos smirked, looking straight at him.

“You only had what you asked for.” He also kept his voice down. “ ’s not my fault I’m that big.”

His two friends blushed at the same time but for very different reasons.

Those words triggered a wave of new lust in Aramis, being reminded how big Porthos was and how much he liked that; taking him, his cock ripping him apart. He swallowed hard.

On his part, Athos was petrified when he heard this new information. He remembered the words Porthos told him so long ago.

 _Aramis is always on top_.

And so far, that line had always been true. He had never witnessed otherwise as a spectator of their friends’ intimate moments, not to mention that during his encounters with Aramis he had never shown any sign of letting Athos fuck him.

He understood then the extension of that comment (or was it an unexpected confession?); there was only one person in the world with allowed access to…that certain part of Aramis’ body, and that was Porthos.  Only Porthos was special enough as to, speaking bluntly, fuck Aramis.

Athos brought forth in his mind that image and felt quite aroused by that. Maybe one day…. He could ask them to let him see… the show.

However, this was not the moment nor the place. He shook his head and focused on his friends, who were still teasing each other with double meaning sentences. They seemed to be happy and relaxed. Athos smiled.

“Go and take a bath. I love you both but I won’t be working with you under these conditions.”

Aramis smiled at Porthos and discretely touched his hand.

“No! No way!” Athos yelled. “You go separately!”

Porthos laughed and shrugged.

“I’ll go first.”

He put a hand on Aramis’ shoulder and squeezed it. 

Right when he was about to leave his friends, they all saw a courier from the Royal Palace entering the garrison. The man went straight to Treville’s office.

Less than two minutes later the courier opened the door and left, and soon the Captain himself came into the balcony and looked at them.

“Aramis!” He called.

First the musketeer kept his poker face and then gave to his friends his best “what the fuck” smile before walking fast to the Captain’s office.

Porthos and Athos exchanged a worried look.

 

……………………………………….

 

“This letter comes from the Cardinal.”

Treville proceeded to inform Aramis once he had the man before his desk.

“Mademoiselle de Montespan is leaving Paris tomorrow.”

Aramis thought about it.

“For how long?”

The Captain raised his eyebrows.

“For good.”

Aramis frowned.

“What? Why? I was with her only last night. She was happy after the party. I’m sure nothing made her think she’s leaving her home. I would have noticed.”

“From what I’m reading here.” Treville throw the letter on his table. “The Queen has arranged her marriage; therefore, she’s leaving as soon as possible.”

Pensive, Aramis caressed his beard.

“The Queen arranged that poor girl’s marriage from one day to another? That makes little sense, if I may say so.”

Treville gave him a severe look.

“Our Monarchs’ decisions are not questioned by us.”

Aramis was about to say something.

“However,” he cut him off. “I agree there is something else going on here.”

“Permission to speak freely, sir?”

Treville nodded.

“Spanish women are often… _hot blood_ , especially when it comes to jealousy. You’re about to tell me, and I can see it on your face, that our Queen is not any common woman. And I agree. My point is that there is somebody else behind this, and… that would be the King.”

The Captain thought about it.

It was a valid argument. The King needed this letters back, but even when he gets them…. Having the lady still around, reminding him his old soft spot, must be annoying for him. After all, Treville had seen him throwing toys away since he was a young boy. He wouldn’t be surprised to know that he also threw people away.

“You may be right, Aramis. However, the mission, and not the reason behind it, is what matters here. While I don’t approve the method, your mission is to retrieve those letters for the King of France. And now you’re running out of time. Whatever you’re planning to do, you have to do it today.”

Aramis pinched his nose.

 

_Fuck._

_Not today. No_.

 

Today it was Friday.

 

……………………………………..

 

He found his friends waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs, looking nervous.

He was angry and scared. But he had to carry on playing the game. He forced himself to relax and look normal. Luckily, he had plenty of experience pretending his life was wonderful when he was, actually, dead inside. Of course that had been before meeting Porthos and Athos, but he still remembered well how to do it.

“What?”

“What?” Athos echoed him in disbelief. “What that was about?”

“I think the Captain likes me. He’s always finding excuses to see me alone.”

“Aramis.” Porthos used his warning tone.

The marksman shook his head and let out a little laugh.

“Can you two relax for a while? It’s okay. The courier brought a stolen letter from the Spanish ambassador and they needed a fine translator, that’s all.”

“And what did it say?” Athos didn’t let it go.

Aramis had to swallow.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“See, that’s the funny part. It was a love missive. And quite lame, frankly. If I was a woman, I wouldn’t fall for any man calling me _pichón_.”

“What’s that?” Porthos asked, more relaxed now.

“A pigeon chick.”

The two men made a weird face and let out a little laugh.

They seemed to have bought it.

Aramis always knew he was a good liar.

“Well my friends, I still have to get that bath. After that I would like to spend some time in the church. See you later.”

The musketeers watched him go and then Athos turned to Porthos.

“You still stink, too.”

Porthos grinned and opened his arms, ready to give him a bear hug.

“Come here!”

 

……………………………………

 

A couple of hours later Aramis was ready to leave; he had been thinking about how to gain Justine de Montespan’s deep trust during what was going to be an unexpected visit, and already had a plan in his mind. He knew what to say and how to say it. The game was afoot.

What he didn’t think about was what to say to Porthos. He didn’t want to deal with those thoughts. It was easier to lock them away.

Tomorrow everything will be over, anyway. Sure Porthos wouldn’t be happy about that night, but in the morning he could make up things. He would kiss him, he would make him to forgive him, he will leave this stupid episode of his life behind (an episode that nobody needed to know about) and everything will be alright.

But before that, he still had one last sacrifice to make.

He went to the tavern where Porthos used to wait for him; to start their night with wine, cards and repressed lust.  He spotted him quickly and felt his legs go weak. He knew he was about to act like a total bastard.

He knew it. And yet this knowledge didn’t stop him.

Porthos frowned when he saw him looking so groomed. He could have thought it was for him, that Aramis wanted to look fine for him, but his instinct told him otherwise.

“Where are you going?” He asked, feeling his heart skipping a beat.

He could hear himself screaming internally.

_No…no…No…. Please don’t. Please, say “nowhere”._

For a moment Aramis felt his lips sealed. He couldn’t open his mouth. He couldn’t speak. He didn’t calculate this was going to be so difficult.

“I’m sorry.”

There was nothing left to be said, not a longer explanation to be given. The rest of the conversation was implicit in the way Porthos was looking at him, and in those two words that came out of his mouth.

Porthos looked away. Not sure if was trying to hold his tears back, or if he was trying to stop himself from killing Aramis right there.

Athos was observing them from the distance. Something was wrong. He saw Aramis turning around and leaving the place, Porthos looked distressed.  He stood up, unsure about what to do. And then he made a decision.

He run after Aramis.

“Hey!”

Aramis spin around and shut his eyes when he saw Athos, he didn’t even notice he was in the tavern.

 _Shit_.

“What the hell are you doing?”

He was quite angry.

“Athos, let it go.”

He tried to leave but his friends grabbed his arm.

“No, Aramis. Explain to me why are you doing this. Does Porthos not mean anything to you? Do you even care about his feelings?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Well, your apology does not mean anything to me. It’s obvious you are not sorry, otherwise you’d send to hell whoever is waiting for you tonight and go back crawling to the only man that loves you no matter what!”

He abruptly shut up when he heard himself spilling out Porthos’ secret.

_Good job, Athos._

Luckily for him, Aramis didn’t seem to be really listening. That, or he didn’t care about the information.

“Look, I don’t expect you to understand this.”

“Try me.”

Aramis made an exasperated sound. Something was burning his tongue.

“Do you think I like to be like this? Do you have any idea of…?” He trailed off.

Athos frowned, confused.

_What was he talking about?_

“Aramis…”

But he looked into his brown eyes and saw that his friend was gone again.

“Get your hand off of me. I’m late.”

Athos took a step back.

“Fine. But you’re treating Porthos wrongly when he’s the kind of person that comes along once in a lifetime. If you really don’t have feelings for him, if what he needs from you isn’t there, then let him go. Break his heart now and do it, at least, with some honesty.  But if you think you can love him back, if you’re ready for that… Then think about what you’re about to lose. And believe me when I say I know much about losing.”

_Please, Aramis. Don’t go. Don’t go._

But Aramis left.

Athos watched him disappeared into the dark and swore, cursing his friend’s blindness and stupidity. He didn’t understand it. He couldn’t understand it. He thought he knew Aramis, but apparently he didn’t know him at all. Was it the need of sex with strangers such an addiction for him? Was it like a drug? Preventing him to see how happy he could be with Porthos?

Porthos!

Porthos was what matters now.

He had to take care of him.

He run back to the tavern.

 

…………………….

 

Aramis walked his way to the residence of Justine de Montestpan with Athos’ words resonating in his ears. He wanted to cry, but he didn’t let himself doing so.

He knew that if he started crying he wouldn’t be able to stop for hours, impeding him to finish what he started.  There would be time for that later. 

He announced his visit and waited for the lady to come. He was on the same room where he waited for her the first time, only the day before, though it felt like a lifetime to him.

“Monsieur Aramis?”

The woman was really surprised to see him there. She looked sad too. Aramis thought that his own face was probably showing sadness and almost laugh about the whole situation.  It was not a very promising start.

Nevertheless, he bowed and took a step closer to her.

It was time to put his plan in action.

“Mademoiselle, I have to speak with you.”

 

…………………………..

 

Outside the gates, Athos and Porthos were wondering who lived in that large house.  They saw a couple of young valets taking outside what it seemed to be some heavy luggage and decided to approach to them.

“Excuse me.” Athos started. “Could you tell me who lives here?”

“This is the Montespan residence. Only the daughter, Justine de Montespan, lives here though. Or I should say… _lived_ , since tomorrow morning she will be leaving Paris.”

“And why is that?” Porthos intervened.

“She’s getting married… in Lyon.”

Athos and Porthos exchanged a look and walked away from the valets. Porthos sat down on a rock next to the path leading outside the house.

“I was hoping there was a reasonable explanation. But see how stupid I am. He just needs to score with some noble woman, a virgin probably, before she gets married. Therefore, the hurry to be with her tonigh.”

“I’m sorry.”

Athos sighed. To be honest, he was also hoping there was something else.

“What are you going to do now?”

“This… thing with Aramis…. is over.”

Porthos said those words with a confidence he didn’t really have. He was feeling so dead inside. In fact, he was in shock. And that shock was giving him the strength to carry on walking and breathing.  He still hadn’t processed the events going on around him. He still hadn’t really absorbed the pain. He was not yet feeling the urge to cry and scream. Not yet.

“I will stay with you tonight.”

Athos said, well knowing that the worst part was about to come.

Porthos looked up at him.

“Thank you.”

 

………………………..

 

“I can’t believe it.”

Justine shook his head, blue eyes wide open.

“You came to my house to seduce me?”

“Well, technically.” Aramis tried not to look cute while raising his hands. “But I also came to talk to you and tell you everything. That is what we are doing now.”

“Oh, thank you very much.” She answered with irony.

“I’m sorry.”

The woman took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down.

“No. It is the King who should feel sorry. Forgive me, monsieur, actually… I really appreciate what you did. You’re a good man.”

“I’m not sure about that.”

“You are.” Justine smiled.

“Will you give me the letters, then?” Aramis asked, just in case.

“Of course I will. What I don’t understand is…. They are just silly poems. Why does he need them so badly?”

Aramis frowned.

_What do you mean just silly poems?_

“May I see them?”

Justine nodded and disappeared to fetch them.

Aramis took a moment to relax. He did a good thing, actually. Until this morning he was ready to do what he was supposed to do; seduce the woman. It was later in the church when the thought hit him…. What if…. What if he told her everything? What if he used his mouth for a better purpose than… well, meaningless sex? What if he considered this woman as an intelligent person who would be ready to help him once she knew the truth?

It had worked. Despite the pain in his chest, he still let out a small smile.

The young woman came back and handed him the letters. Aramis unfolded them and started reading them. 

Indeed, the first three letters were just silly poems about… _how lovely, white and fluffy sheep are?_

“Did the King write this?”

Justin shrugged.

“I told you so.”

Aramis had to bite his tongue. Musketeer or not, if he had been forced to hurt Porthos just to go on a quest for stupid poems he was going to take this very personally.

Luckily the fourth letter proved to be the reason why he was there. At the bottom of the page, after another lovely poem, it was written the following lines:

 

_To my dear Justine de Montespan whom I, King Louis of France, would never hurt and would never act against._

 

“You can keep the others. This is the one I need. This is a menace for the Crown. If you ever revolve against the King, this letter would make you practically untouchable.”

“But I would never….”

“Still I have to take it with me. I hope you…don’t mind.”

“Of course not. In fact, take them all away. Now I know this is why they are sending me to Lyon.”

Aramis gave her a sympathetic look.

“I’m sorry about that.”

Justine shrugged and looked away. Aramis folded the letters and put them in a pocket inside his leather jacket. He rose up and came closer to the woman, daring to put a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t look back.

“Too bad you didn’t seduce me in the end.” She tried to joke to hide her tears.

Aramis let out a sad laugh.

“Maybe under another circumstances.”

“And what circumstances are those?”

The man took a deep breath and let his heart speak for the first time on that night.

“I had to hurt someone I love in order to be here tonight.”

“Does she know? That you love her?”

Justine couldn’t see his grimace at the use of the _she_.

“No.”

She wiped her tears away and this time turned around to look at him.

“Tell her. Tomorrow I’m getting married to a man I don’t know. I will probably never know what to be in love feels like. And you, you’re wasting your chance.”

“It might be too late.”

“You don’t know until you try.”

She stepped away from him and turned her attention to the fire.

“Goodnight, monsieur.”

Aramis took his hat and walked to the door and there he turned around, looking at her back.

“Goodnight, mademoiselle. And good luck.”

 

 

 


	7. Muñeco de trapo (Rag Doll)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aramis' burning thoughts are keeping God (and me) awake late at night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone.
> 
> Sorry for the delay.
> 
> I'm not happy with this chapter, it was more.... intense in my mind.  
> But after days and days and days trying to improve it...  
> I have finally accepted that.... It is how it is.

**7\. Muñeco de trapo (Rag Doll)**

 

 

It was hard. So hard it was tearing up his heart.

Working together with Porthos after all that happened between them; after all those precious moments they shared, now gone. After losing him.

Aramis was exhausted. For a whole month he had been giving everything he had to pretend that things were fine.  To put a smile on his face – _Oh Porthos, can’t you really see the subtitles under my smile?_ – and keep the show going on.

He was beyond sad.

He was beyond tired.

But he had long ago figured that was his place; wearing a happy mask that didn’t match his real feelings, in the shadows where he used to live his life.

 

The first week was the worst. It had been just impossible to work with Porthos (broken as a feather) and Athos (angry as a bear) without their work being affected. Their lack of communication and the susceptibility behind all their actions have led them to fail in arresting a man they had been investigating for months.

Captain Treville was not happy about it. Unless they put their shit together now, he would have no inconvenience in to have them expelled from the regiment. After all, if they didn’t know how to do their job anymore, they were not useful for France.

After that, they all did their best to put the Musketeers interests above the personal issues. However, the Captain knew things were far from being good. He didn’t need to pry into whatever it was happening between them; he knew those three men like a father would knew their three rebel sons.

During the second week, he sent Porthos and Athos away on a mission for a couple of days.  What the three musketeers didn’t know was that Treville did this on purpose. It was obvious to him that Aramis was the key element behind their strange behaviour.  The marksman tended to be alone these days, while the other two seemed to be strangely glued to each other. With this movement he wanted to give them some space, hoping this could help somehow.

Aramis only knew he was given two days off for apparently no reason. He hated it as much as he hated himself. He spent those two days locked in a brothel.

Drinking.

Fucking.

Trying to escape from thinking.

From regretting.

From feeling anything.

On the third week he turned to God; spending long hours in the night kneeled on the cold floor of a small church he had always liked. The priest who was in charge of it already knew him, and used to let him stay even after closing the doors to people.

 

Then on the second day of the fourth week Porthos came to him. It was getting dark and he got back to the garrison only ten minutes ago.  In two strides he crossed the yard with a determined look in his face.

“Is it true?” He asked with husky voice.

Aramis blinked a few times, confused.

“What?”

“Haven’t heard? What the Red Guards are telling about you.”

Aramis felt his fears growing, but he tried to keep calm and pretend he didn’t follow the conversation.

“What now? That I am smart and good looking. I already know…”

“No.”  Porthos cut him off. “That you are a whore that took a job to seduce a woman only to steal from her something for the Cardinal.”

“That’s not what happened.”

“It is true, then.”

Aramis took a look around. He could see Athos observing them from the distance. He also saw a couple of musketeers looking at him and laughing, probably sharing a dirty joke. Athos scolded them. Porthos noticed too.

“They think is funny, you know. Apparently everybody think is funny and they would switch places with you. They envy you. They would gladly change their sword missions to your bedding ladies missions.”

“But you don’t think so.”

“No.”

“Can we talk about this in some more private place?”

“Kitchen. Sèrge is not here now.”

 

Athos looked at them and sighed. He was feeling like an idiot. He should have seen it coming. After Aramis’ meeting with the Cardinal he should have put more attention to… well, everything. He bought Aramis’ lies too easily. There was a tiny voice in his head telling him _I told you there was something weird going on and you chose not to listen._ He could have prevented his brothers from so much suffering! 

He got himself so involved in Porthos’ situation with Aramis that he had not been alert. He had not been ready. He failed them. 

From that moment onwards he would have to remember that was precisely the reason why he was always trying to keep some distance even from his friends. He needed to think with cool head in order to protect himself and his brothers. Caring too much was definitely not an advantage.

 

Aramis took a deep breath and looked at Porthos. It was the first time in weeks they were so close to each other.

“As I told you, that was not what happened. I, indeed, took a job from the Cardinal. I had no choice…. In fact, the order came from the King himself. He needed to retrieve a compromising document that was in the hands of a noble woman. They chose me to…”

“Seduce her.”

“Yes.” Aramis looked away. “But I didn’t do it.”

“You failed?”

“No. I mean I didn’t seduce her. I found another way to do it.”  Aramis waited for a second, for if Porthos wanted to say anything. But he didn’t. So he kept talking. “I was sent there on that… on that Friday night.”

Porthos closed his eyes.

“Justine de Montespan.”

“How do you know her name?” Aramis frowned.

“Doesn’t matter.”

A thick silence fell over them. 

“I’m sorry, Porthos. I had no choice.”

“You already said that. And know what? you actually did. Your choice was telling us, telling me what was going on.”

Aramis made an exasperated gesture and turned his back on him.

“I couldn’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“I was ashamed, ok! Ashamed of what you would think of me. You said it yourself before, I was playing a whore role for the Cardinal.”

Porthos was stunned. He needed a minute to find the strength to talk again.

“You really think so low of me?”

Aramis didn’t answer.

He did want to scream.

_No! I love you!_

His lips were strangely sealed, though. His head was spinning and his brain chose that specific moment to stop cooperating with the rest of his body. He could not move. He could not talk. He could not think straight. He was scared to death. He heard Porthos’ steps moving away from him and turned quickly.

It was now or never.

He had to say it.

 

_I love you!_

_Porthos, I love you! Don’t turn away from me! I love you!_

“Porthos….”

He called him with trembling voice.

The musketeer stopped but didn’t look at him.

Aramis swallowed hard.

“Do you love me?”

Now Porthos looked at him. His face unreadable.

“I love you. I don’t know if I trust you.”

 

………………………………………………..

 

He looked up, a rosary in his hands.

After the previous events on that evening, there was only one place he could go back to.  The priest let him in and was not bothered by his presence while preparing his things for the next morning mass. He muttered something about liking having things ready in advance and not leaving them half done until the last moment.

Aramis thought his life had always been left half done. One moment after another. Becoming a Musketeer was the only act that seemed to be complete. Especially after meeting Porthos. He had not planning falling for him, though.

After a long time of having a platonic relationship, of feeling that unspoken heat between them, one night they both decided to play a pretended drinking game as the perfect excuse to start exploring their feelings (as well as their mouths and bodies). 

Their encounters, occasional at first, soon became a habit and Aramis had to confess that habit quickly became an addiction. He never stopped taking other lovers, nevertheless. How to do that? He had never been in a monogamous relationship before. He was not even sure that would ever be possible. People was made for loving other people. Bodies were made for pleasure.  Life was short and he didn’t see the point in wasting it with only one person in a lifetime.

Anyway, the problem was that months went by and he started feeling a change in his relationship with Porthos. He could feel Porthos wanted more from him. And more importantly, that HE wanted to give him more.

The first time he felt the urge to say _I love you_ they were in bed and Porthos were giving him head. So he thought it was probably not the right moment. Probably his friend would send him to hell.  After that, many other moments came along. And not only “sex moments”.  There were also random moments in which Aramis’ heart wanted to scream those words.

Random moments in which - he knew - Porthos’ ears wanted to hear those words.

Words that never got to fly.

He had thought about it before. Saying _I love you_ was not a problem for Aramis. He had told that to many women in his life. It was rather simple, actually.  However, for whatever the reason… He remained muted.

Like on that same evening. Something was preventing him to speak. And he had to figure out what it was during that same night. Otherwise Porthos would get over him, over them. He would forget him. And everything simply because Aramis was not capable of signing a declaration of love.

Losing Porthos for good?

Aramis stopped breathing.

No.

No.

Never.

He looked up again. If Christ was looking at him, he didn’t know. What he did know was that he would give anything to keep Porthos with him. He would be even willing to embrace the devil if that was what it took in order to be able to tell Porthos all those words he had now locked inside his head.

_I’m losing him. You see, Father? I’m losing him with my silence. I won’t ask for your forgiveness for what I’m thinking now._

He remembered another silence. One day when they found a little girl crying over her lost rag doll.  Porthos took her in his arms and didn’t stop until he found the toy. The only treasure that little girl had. Oh, how much he desired to tell him that he loved him. That he was like that rag doll, lost until Porthos found him.

He didn’t say a word. They made sweet love on that night. Aramis also remembered that; he tried to make Porthos listen to his body, since he was not ready to say those words out loud.

In fact, now that he was thinking about it…. He was more similar to the rag doll than he realized back then.

Aramis had, indeed, said _I love you_ many times in his life before. But also he had been told those words many times by people who loved him and used him fast. It was a two-way street. 

Actually, at the beginning, it was always him the one who ended up hurt. He had always found easy to fall in love with people. And people had taken advantage of him. People had loved him because of his charming manners, because of his pretty face and nice body. Not that he was not thankful about the way he looked; but too soon he had learned to use it to take advantage of others, before they could take advantage on him.

And so the spiral began to spin.

Use people before they can use you.

Plus, it was fun and pleasurable. Sex was a gift to the human race. What harm could do to move from one bed to another? Sometimes he even got money or gifts from his generous lovers. So what? He was giving them pleasure, they were giving him… _donations_ in return.

The problem was that, even when HE was the one using people…. He could not stop thinking that, in the end, he was the rag doll.  Not during the… _adventure_ , of course. That was always thrilling. But after. When he was alone again. With nothing but a satisfaction long gone, and sometimes with his pocket heavier with some extra coins that never seemed to fulfil his needs.

Alone. Sometimes waiting forever to stand out in the rain so no one could see him crying, trying so hard to wash his pain away.

A lost rag doll, put aside once the fun is over.

His eyes made of buttons attached with black crosses. Eyes that can never speak true words for themselves. His heart drowned in sorrow.

Until Porthos found him. Not that he fixed him. Aramis didn’t need to be fixed, for he was not broken. He was lost. He was lost until Porthos found him.

The idea of embracing the devil in exchange for being able to tell Porthos his real feelings came back to his mind.

He was not scared of the burning hell. He was scared of silence.

He was scared of spending his whole life living like a rag doll. He was scared of dying being a rag doll.

 

“A sou for your thoughts, my son.”

Startled, Aramis tried to reach his sword as his first instinct before realizing it was only the priest talking to him.

“I’m sorry. Didn’t want to disturb you. I didn’t realize you were so… voluble”

The musketeer half smiled.

“God didn’t make a serene man out of me, Father. I wish I could be, for those people can easily find peace.”

“If you think that a calm soul is naturally born to this world, you’re deeply wrong.” The priest made a funny gesture. “Believe me when I say it took me years to learn to live with myself.”

“Maybe I should lock myself in a monastery.”

“Maybe. But let me tell you something; a burning soul won’t find peace anywhere.”

A dark shadow crossed Aramis’ eyes.

“The people touched by my…burning soul are less victims than myself. They wouldn’t believe it, but nobody is more hurt by my own actions than me.”

The priest sighed.

“Some lessons can take years, even a lifetime, to be learned. Go home. I am sure God has enlightened you enough for tonight.”

 

…………………..

 

“Aramis.”

The man rolled his eyes, right what he need. The perfect ending for a perfect day.

“Athos.” He raised his hands. “If you are here to yell at me, save it for tomorrow. I am really tired.”

“I won’t. Porthos told me what you did.”

“And you are mad.”

“I am mad because you never considered telling us. We could have helped. We are stronger together.” Athos took a deep breath. “I am not mad about what you did, though. I am here to give you my support. For the past weeks, I took care of Porthos. Now, I will take care of you.”

Aramis was speechless. He was ready to launch a few sarcastic comments about how perfect Athos was and how he never ever made mistakes; but suddenly there was no need. Athos was not there to fight.

“Let’s go back. My ass is frozen. How long have you been in there?” The older musketeer started walking.

“Athos.”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”      

He gave Aramis a warm smile.

“Don’t mention it.”           

                                                                                                                                

 

 

  
  
  


 

 


	8. Aramis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A haunted house (or so they say).  
> A declaration of love.  
> An honest conversation about feelings and relationships.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even gonna try to beg your forgiveness for not updating in... 4 weeks!  
> It was just... Not the right moment.
> 
> But I'm back now.
> 
> A million thanks to cmorgana, you did more than helping me in giving birth to this chapter.
> 
> I stole a few good lines from Buffy, if you're a Buffy fan... You will recognize them immediately.
> 
> No weasel was harmed during the production of this chapter. I used a stunt double.

**Aramis**

 

Aramis had gone through many breakups in his life and therefore he had basic notions about how to survive to one. It was true, however, that so far he had always been the one leaving the other person; either because he got bored of the… attachment, or because he always liked to be one step ahead and _leave before to be left_. Except with Porthos; the first person ever to dare breaking up with him.

Of course it felt different than all the other times. Not only because this time he was the victim, but also because there were feelings involved; Aramis loved that man. So far breakups have been all about romantic pain and watching rain falling down while his breathing misted the window. This time? This time was nothing remotely close to romantic. The pain of a bullet tearing your flesh off was nothing compared to the pain he felt for months; months during which time he was just busy enough with just trying to keep himself from dying.

A broken heart was not romantic.

He had review all his favourite poems about the topic and now found them stupid and unbelievable. They made him want to scream. Nonsenses! Where were the words about the heavy pressure on your chest that never goes away? The lines describing that no matter what you do, even during those less painful moments when you actually are able to smile at something that someone said, even then, there is always a veil of sadness floating over you. Stupid poems never talk about that.

The point was, anyway, that breakups have rules. And the most important rule was to keep the distance from the other significant part.

Out of sight, out of mind.

In this case, however, that was not an option. He had to see Porthos, to talk with Porthos, to work with Porthos, to be close to Porthos.

Every – single – day.

Like on that day.

He looked up when Athos halted his horse. Oh, apparently while he was lost in his thoughts they had reached their destination.

“Here it is. The Desprès mansion.” Athos announced.

The long ago abandoned large house stood before them; grey, dirty and decrepit. Athos couldn’t help but wondering if his own house would look like this now, but he forced himself to stop that trail of thoughts right there, before they could get to a deeper and dangerous place. His two friends didn’t know anything about that part of him. And right now was not he moment nor the place to bring it up.

“Let’s search for any sign of Dupont. I’ll check the outside. Porthos, go with Aramis and take a look inside.”

Porthos made a small sound of protest. Aramis felt his heart sink; of course he didn’t want to spend any time alone with him.

“What?” Athos lifted his eyebrows.

Then he realized the mistake he had made. He was so used to Porthos and Aramis always working as a team, that it was still hard to remember those times were in the past.

“Aramis can come with me if…”

“’s not that.” Porthos cut him off.

Surprised, Aramis looked at him.

“This place…” The musketeer stopped talking for a second, unsure about what to say. “They say it’s hunted.”

“Hunted?”

“It is said that the ghost of old Desprès is…around. People from the village claim to have saw it under the moonlight.”

Athos gave him his best _I’m so done you better stop talking_ stare.

“We’re lucky it’s only noon, then.”

Porthos remained unhappy but silent. Aramis gazed at him from the corner of his eye. If things were different, he would say _don’t worry my Porthos,_ _I’ll protect you from ghosts and from horny women_. And Porthos would laugh and kiss him.

If things were different.

“Let’s move.”

 

………………………………………

 

Despite the bright sun shining outside, the interior of the house was dark and creepy. It was also empty; no furniture whatsoever, the sound of their steps echoing in the naked walls of a big entrance hall.

Porthos and Aramis took a couple of minutes for their sight to accommodate to the dim light before taking a pistol in their hands and turning to the right together. The idea of split up to search in different rooms never ever crossed their minds. In fact, it was only pride what prevented them from walking in clutching each other’s arm.

Porthos was nervous from the beginning, and if Aramis wasn’t at first –he didn’t care much about ghosts- he was definitely now. There was such an eerie feeling emanating from the house.

So together they entered the main dining room of the residence. It was even darker there and it smelled like dust and mould. They stopped, half paralyzed if not by fear at least by common sense. Aramis swallowed hard.

“Unless we get some light, I don’t think….”

A sudden noise cut him off.

A shadow moving.

Something maybe coming to them.

A shot in the dark and a strangled sound.

Porthos growled and run to what it faintly looked like a window. His heart was pounding in his chest; he was scared to death. What was that??

“Aramis! Aramis!”

“Here!”

Hearing the voice of his friend didn’t sooth his nerves. He pulled down what it seemed to be a dusty curtain and broke the rotten wooden boards from the window with his own bare hands. The bright light filled the room and made him cover his eyes with a hiss. Still, he frantically blinked trying to get a sight of his friend.

Aramis was standing there, in the middle of the room, also covering his eyes with one hand, his pistol in the other. Porthos ran to him.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, taking him by the shoulders, his voice thick with panic.

Aramis blinked.

“What? No, I shot.”

Only three meters away from them a furry bulge laid on the floor.

“A weasel.”  Porthos confirmed with a relieved sigh.

“I’m sorry.”

And Porthos knew it was true, the poor animal just got scared, it was not going to hurt them. He patted his friends’ shoulder. Suddenly, a realization crossed his mind and grinned.

“What?” Aramis asked, frowning.

“It was a damn good shot. In the dark.”

“It was pure luck.” Aramis shrugged a little.

“No.” Porthos looked at him with fondness. “It was not.”

They stared at each other, lost in the moment.  If things were different, Porthos would lean on him and kiss him, _you’re magnificent_ he would say.

If things were different.

 

“Porthos! Aramis!”

They heard Athos voice running to them and quickly stepped away from each other.

“What happened?”

“Aramis killed a weasel.”

Athos made a gesture of relief. Not that he had anything against animals, but better them than his brothers.

“Keeping your cool, I see.”

He noticed then the new open window and Porthos’ hand.

“Are you bleeding?”

Porthos looked at his hand. He didn’t notice before.

“’s nothing.”

“Aramis, please. Take a look at that. I’ll finish with this.”  And then added, seeing Porthos’ expression. “Don’t want to hear another word about ghosts.”

……………………………….

 

They went back to their horses and fetched their medical supplies. Aramis poured a generous amount of water over the wound and examined it carefully so he could see how deep it was. Porthos could feel his heartbeat going faster; Aramis was holding his hand, his beautiful face so focused on the task. He had wanted to kiss him earlier, and he wanted to kiss him now. What the hell, he wanted to kiss him every day.

Shit.

“I can’t see any splinter, that’s good. It’s not a deep wound either. A light bandage will do.”

He looked up and smiled.

Quickly Porthos looked away, but he couldn’t do anything about his flushed face. Aramis chose to ignore it and started working on the bandage while thinking about what happened earlier in the house. Well, actually nothing happened but….

He could felt the heat, the love, still lingering between them. For a second, he even thought they might kiss. And who knows what could have happened if Athos hadn’t interrupted their moment. Like right now. He was sure Porthos was also thinking about it, he was sure Porthos was nervous about how close they were. Closer than ever in months.

With a small sigh he finished his work and tied the bandage, but didn’t let go his friends’ hand. He was tired of suffering, he was tired of waiting, he was tired of hoping. If things between them weren’t going to change by themselves, then he would have to make it change.

“Aramis?”

The marksman looked him in the eye with determined face.

 _To hell with it_.

“I love you.”

Porthos kept a neutral face. He had been working very hard to reach his current level of _getting over Aramis_ and now he could not throw everything away.

 _Yeah Porthos, like if you could ever get over Aramis_.

Still, things weren’t that simple. He couldn’t just go down that path again so easily. Of course he still had feelings for the man, but as he told him once, he was not sure if he could trust him. Having feelings for him was not an excuse to jump to his arms without pondering the consequences. He had to be strong.

He had to be strong

“You had plenty of time to tell me.”

“I’m telling you now.”

“Oh! Right then! I think… Yes, I think I’m in love with you again!”

“Oh Porthos, like if you ever stopped loving me.” Aramis said with a cheekiness he didn’t really felt. But he had to play the game. And this game, playing a self-security he really didn’t have, was not new to him.

“You’re a bastard.”

“And you want to kiss me.”

“Aramis.” Porthos used his best warning voice.

“It’s fine, I want to kiss you too.”

“Don’t turn this into a fighting and kissing thing.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause Athos is coming towards us.”

Aramis turned around and saw his friend getting closer.

“This isn’t over.” He whispered to Porthos.

“Yes it is.” His friend whispered back.

“Gentlemen, I don’t think Dupont has ever been here. We have been misled.” Athos looked at them and found them both quite tense, he gave them a suspicious look. “Everything all right?”

“Yes.” Aramis answered. “So the blacksmith lied.”

“It seems so.”

“I suggest we go back to the village and find out why.” Porthos said.

The three musketeers agreed and headed with their horses back to that point.

 

…………………………..

“Who was this blacksmith again? Some relative of Dupont?”

“We are not sure, Captain. All we know is that he gave us that wrong information about the mansion, and people say that after we left he did the same. He didn’t even take his things with him, he just vanished.”

Treville gave Athos a severe look.

“But surely someone has to know something about him.”

“Apparently he got there shortly after Dupont was put in jail. He became the local blacksmith and for years had a good relationship with his neighbours. Good but distant. He was friends with everybody, but intimate with no one.”

“And nobody suspected anything?”

“You can’t blame people for not wanting to complicate their lives more than necessary. He was a good blacksmith, he was nice to his neighbours, never gave them a reason to be afraid of him. What does it matter if he had no wish of sharing other details of his life with them?”

Athos realized he was starting to speak from his own experience and stopped.

Treville run a hand through his hair.

“There is no way we can track Dupont now. All I can do is sending a report with his description to cities and villages, and wait for someone to give us a sign. There is no point in having my men combing forests just depending on a lucky strike.”

“But Captain…”

“Athos, we all hate unfinished missions. But sometimes there is nothing we can do. We are not omnipotent. We are just human. Even you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Go and have some rest. You did well.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

 

Athos left the Captain’s office and found Porthos waiting for him down the stairs.

“Can we have a word?”

“Have a sentence even.”

“It’s about Aramis.”

“Can’t say that’s a surprise”

Porthos take a step back, as if to retire and not to bother his friend with his problems once more. Luckily, by then Athos knew how to read him pretty well.

“No, I didn’t mean… C’mon, tell me. Something happened today, am I wrong?”

The musketeer took a look around to make sure they were alone.

“He told me he loves me. Just like that.”

Athos seemed unimpressed.

“Well, that’s not exactly brand new information, is it?”

“No, but…” Porthos licked his lips. “I thought we were already over that phase.”

Athos shook his head.

“Honestly? Neither of you have ever got over that phase. You and Aramis are trying to be friends, and the truth is you’ll never be friends. You’ll be in love until it kills you both. You’ll fight, and you’ll shag, and you’ll hate each other until it makes you quiver, but you’ll never be friends.”

Porthos was speechless. Did he hear right? Athos wasn’t that harsh with him usually.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be so blunt.”

Porthos blinked.

“No, no. I appreciate your honesty, my friend. And frankly, I have the same fears.”

Athos put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it.

“If you want to be back with him, do it. Take this second chance as a gift. My only advice is that you must have a good talk with him before making a decision. You must be clear about what do you want, and more importantly, what you don’t want in this relationship.”

Porthos nodded.  He would put conditions, and Aramis would have to accept them if he wanted them to be back together. Either they could have an equally respectful relationship, or it will be definitely over.

Taking care of himself was a priority above any kind of romantic notion they could have about what true love was.

…………………………..

 

Later than night Porthos heard a knock on the door. It was obvious who it was, and he was still a little bit unsure about having this conversation. But he couldn’t pretend he was not at home and frankly, the sooner they go through this the better. He opened the door.

“Can we talk?”

“Vocal-cord-wise yes. With each other? No.”

He was open to having a conversation, but was not willing to let Aramis think that winning his trust back was going to be an easy task.

“Porthos, please.”

_Mmm…  he’s saying please from the beginning, that’s not a bad sign._

He stepped aside to let him came in.

“What do you want, Aramis?”

“A honest conversation about us.”

“Good.”

Porthos poured a glass of wine for them both and waited for his friend to start talking.

Aramis had held that conversation in his mind a hundred of times. He knew exactly what to say and how to say it. He even had planned how to react to all the possible lines that Porthous would say. However, now that he was actually there….  He realized it was not going to be so easy. He took a deep breath.

“I love you.”

“You already stated that today.”

“Let me finish. I love you. And I know you love me. I really don’t know why we are not together.”

Porthos raised his eyebrows.

“You don’t know?”

“Well, I do. But I don’t understand it.”

Silence.

Aramis drank his wine in one gulp. _This is not going well_ …. And Porthos was still quiet. Listening, but not cooperating.

“I told you all about Justine de Montespan and the King, and the Cardinal.”

“Indeed.”

“You understand it was not my fault and I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“I do. But I didn’t break up with you because of what happened with that lady or the Cardinal.”

Aramis made an exasperate gesture.

“That’s what I don’t understand.”

“I could have helped you, Aramis. You didn’t have to go through that shit alone, and yet you never considered telling me. You prefer to make me think the worst of you, to make me feel miserable, rather than sharing your problems with me.”

“That’s not true.”

“No?”

“I told you already the reason why I didn’t tell you. I was so ashamed that I could barely look at myself in the mirror.”

“But you did well. You were honest with the girl, and retrieved the missing letters without hurting anybody.”

“It was being treated like a whore what made me feel ashamed!”

Aramis almost shouted with trembling voice. He never planned on crying that confession out loud, but since he just did it he might well to carry on with it.

“I was also scared,” he lowered his voice “that you saw me doing that and thought I was disgusting. That it reminded you that I don’t worth more than my body.”

Porthos closed his eyes. It was not the first time they went through that issue, even before becoming lovers.  Aramis was a true expert in the art of pretending he loved his licentious way of life; that he enjoyed seducing women and had no problem whatsoever in accepting gifts in exchange. It’s not that he didn’t really like all that, most of the times he did, the problem was that he was too way trapped in his own game.

“Know what? We both are idiots, we are both right and we are both wrong. I gladly admit it, and if it was just that....I would be kissing you right now. But I'm tired of having this same conversation over and over. I don't care what you did it he past, I don't care where you come from. You could never ever be something disgusting to me. And yet, it seems you can't stop putting all your insecurities on my shoulders. You are the only one here who is ashamed of you. Well, whose fault is that?”

“I…” Aramis took a deep breath and looked away.

“I can admit my faults too. Sometimes I also wonder if I feel so bad because when I see what you did… From the gutters, from pickpocketing, to be… You.  While all I could do was fuck and fuck and fuck some more. Do you think that's what I wanted for myself? Even my mother would be ashamed of me! So no, you’re right: I shouldn't put this on your shoulder, I shouldn't be near you at all.”

Porthos came closer and took his face, to make him look at him again.

“Hey, look at me. Since we’re being honest here…. I love it when you act like a pervert and beautiful slutty.” He smiled, trying to light up the mood a little.

“But you really, really need to let that go, it has nothing to do with us. And yet it's always in the middle. What if I was constantly asking you if you are with me only because you have pity on me? Or if I was constantly having doubts about if your feelings are real or if you are just trying to fool me and then having a good laugh at me? I surely had that kind of thoughts in the past! But that's where they are now, in the past.”

“Except you don't see someone you've slept with at every corner, you don't see that old, rich women giggle when they pass you at the Louvre or even whores chatting about how they gave you one for free. You don't see the disgusted looks of other men or the laughs and the rumours. Your past is in the past. But I’m the whore of Paris and everyone will make sure I won’t forget.”

“Don’t get mad at me, but I think those ghosts are only in your head. I have walked with you enough times as to truly say I didn't notice what you are talking about. What I see is all those people admiring you as you pass them by, wanting you, envying you. Wanna know the reason of their disgusted faces? Of their secret conversations? Cause I'm with you. And they don't get it. I should be washing their feet and not wearing this pauldron. How can you touch this dirty skin, Aramis? Don't you dare telling me my past is in the past. I have to face it every day, and every day it's a fight. And that's what I do.”

Aramis needed to clear his head, this deep honesty of this conversation sure escalated quickly. Not exactly what he had planned, but he was glad it was finally happening. If he wanted to have a second chance with Porthos, they had to lay all cards on the table. He poured himself a glass of water.  His head was already heavy enough with words, wine sure could not help.

“You have honour, Porthos, and basically you can break the bones of whoever tries to take it from you. I only have a great ass and a skilled tongue. I don't have any honour, you lost it once you lose your clothes. Not to mention where a few of that pompous rich bastards' cocks have been. The only thing worth it is them seeing me touching your skin, knowing that I'm a comrade, a soldier, a brother to you, because... Well, you're a Musketeer and to walk with you is what gives me worthiness.”

“That’s not true. You are also a Musketeer. And a man of many talents. Many people love you, including myself. However, it’s time you start to love yourself.”

“That's the problem, people only see my…body talents, and maybe how fun I can be with a pistol. Nothing more than a monkey or a way to pass time. You're the only who sees who I am, and the only who counts, but sometimes I'd like to be something more or at least to face all that like you do. Sometimes I'd like not to think that you could believe me too used, enough to be scared of me. I'm worth so little without you, Porthos, without your skin to touch in front of others, without your damn bravery. Even less without your love.”

“No. That's your wrong perception talking again. People see what a great Musketeer you are. If you..... Argh! ... If you could only see you the way others do. But I've been there, and unless you realize this for yourself.... there are not enough words in the world to convince you. You have to do that work for yourself.”

“I guess I’m not there yet. Maybe because I stopped being what I was only a few months ago, while you had half a lifetime. Maybe you're right, maybe I should do this alone, maybe I should stop hurting you like that. But... I don't know how to go on without you. I can...try...I can stay away and stop putting my shit on your shoulders, but please... At least don't stop being my brother. I ask just that.”

“You definitely are an idiot.”

The conversation had turned serious as a heart attack by then, so Aramis was caught off guard with that answer.

“Excuse me?”

“I don't mean you have to do this alone like in _I don't want to be your friend anymore_. What I mean is.... It's like a road that can only be seen with your eyes. I will always walk at your side, but I can't tell you where the road is.... I can tell you a hundred times how valuable you are, but unless you see it by yourself... You won't believe it.”

“Oh!  All right... Because I don't think I could ever make a lot of road without you. Actually I don't think I could take even a step knowing I'm no longer yours, even if sometimes we're both stupid idiots.”

Porhos held his breath. He had already forgot that the main point of the conversation was his relationship with Aramis. The thoughts they just shared changed a few things.

“I didn’t know the whole Justine de Montespan story made you feel so miserable. I’m sorry.”

“You couldn’t know. You are right. I pushed you away.”

“You had your reasons.”

“Stupid reasons.”

Porthos sighed. They spent a few minutes sharing a comfortable silence.

“I still remember I came here to tell you that I love you and that I would like you to give us a second chance.” Aramis suddenly said.

“If I did, and I’m not saying it for sure, some things would have to change.”

Aramis beamed.

“Tell me!”

“I want you to trust me. I need you to trust me. I’m not saying you can’t keep secrets away from me, your life and thoughts do not belong to me. But when it comes to something that directly affects our relationship, we must be honest with each other.”

“I agree. Something more?”

“Yes. The most important thing.”

Aramis looked at him, anxiously waiting.

“I don’t want you to have sex with other people. I understand that we need to protect ourselves by pretending we live a _normal_ life, and in order to do that we must not stop seeing women. You, especially. But I don’t want you to take one lover after another just for the fun of it. Your commitment is with me only. If you really love me, if you want me so much as you say you do, prove it not with words but with actions.”

“I agree.” Aramis repeated quickly.

Porthos gave him a severe look.

“I mean it, Aramis. I won’t share you anymore. I was unhappy and I won’t be back there. Think carefully about it. If you can’t do it, if you can’t give me this, I will respect your nature but won’t be back to an unequal relationship with you. You have to be sure you won’t break this promise. Think about it, and when you have your answer, we’ll talk again and see.”

Aramis wanted to protest and gave him an answer right away, but knew Porthos wouldn’t listen. Not now. He was supposed to think about it.

“Thank you.” He bowed his head. “For everything.”

Porthos smiled and patted his shoulder.

“Yeah, putting up with you…. That’s my penance in this life.”

“Give me some water at least, I’m thirsty after all this talking.”

Porthos laughed. Yeah, it had been a good talk. 

One talk they should have had long ago.

One clean talk that could be the first step to a fresh start.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	9. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Aramis remembers his lost long friend Bubble.  
> Athos makes a decision.  
> Treville plays the father.  
> And Porthos could make a living out of being a therapist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not satisfied (at all) with this chapter.  
> But I've been trying to make it better for two weeks now, and... nothing. 
> 
> It is what it is.   
> You have to accept all your babies, even the ugly ones.
> 
> If everythig goes according to the plan, next chapter will be the last.  
> I say this 'cause sometimes you have a plan... and then the characters insist on doing other thing. And your plan go to hell.

**9\. Stay**

 

It was a rather boring market day; everywhere around him tradesmen and women commented how every day people had less and less money to spend. Even the animals seemed to be unusually quiet in their cages. Or maybe it was him; his mood was not so bright as it used to be.

A white and brown fur kitten crossed the square, followed by a little girl who was angrily calling his name. She caught him and gave him a speech about not running away from her in crowded places, then she placed a kiss between his ears and went back to sit next to her mother’s stall.

“How many times do I have to tell to get rid of that cat?” The woman asked with a disapproving shake of her head.

“Prince Fluffy is my friend.”

Aramis smiled, Prince Fluffy was a curious name for a cat. It reminded him the one he used to have when he was a kid.

 

_It was one autumn afternoon when he got Bubble. He had been playing on his own for hours, throwing stones to empty cans lined up on a wooden board. Every time he got to make them all fall, he took a few steps backwards and did it again, increasing the difficulty of the game._

_He pondered the weight of the stone in his hand and looked at the first can. He tried to block all sounds and distractions from around him and focused only on the can. Focus… C’mon…._

_“Aramis!”_

_“Pierre?”_

_His best friend ran to him in such a hurry that he almost tripped over his own feet. He was panting when he reached him. He was holding something between his arms. Aramis took a look. It was a newborn kitten!_

_“Our cat had babies this morning,” Pierre explained once he got his breath back, “but my father said we can’t keep them and…. He…. He…. Well, let’s say this is the only one I could save.”_

_Aramis looked at him, shocked._

_“And what are you gonna do with him?”_

_“It’s for you.”_

_“For me??”_

_“Well, I obviously can’t keep him.”_

_“Well, me neither. They don’t want animals in the house.”_

_“C’mon, I’m sure you can convince them. Like that time when you convinced Madame Baudin to give us a coin for that beauty cream that we made out of oil and flour.”  Pierre grinned._

_“That was cool, yeah. And we bought corn at the Spring Fair.”  Aramis flashed him a smile. ”Fine, I’ll try.”_

_The two friends walked slowly to the place where Aramis lived, talking about the name they were going to give to the kitten and how to take care of him._

_They stopped in front of the big house and Aramis looked up the window of his mother’s room. There was a blue shawl hanging from it.”_

_“Oh no.”_

_“What?” Pierre asked._

_“I can’t get in now.”_

_“It’s getting dark and chilly. Want to come to my house?”_

_“You sure your mother won’t mind?”_

_“As long as we don’t tell her I’ve been here.” He shrugged. “We’ll say we’ve been playing by the river.”_

_Aramis looked at the kitten, wrapped up in a blanket in his arms._

_“It’s fine. I’ll wait in the kitchen. Maybe one of the girls knows how can we feed this little one and I can start working on convincing them to keep him.” Aramis smiled._

_“Sounds like a plan. Good luck. See you tomorrow.”_

_“Are you coming to the church?”_

_“Sure!”_

 

Against all odds Bubble survived and grew up as a strong nice cat. Aramis was allowed to keep him as well, and used to kiss him between the ears like that little girl from the market was doing now with her kitten. They told him Pierre took care of him once he moved away to live with his father, but he never go to know if that was true and, strangely, never thought about it until the present day.

Aramis looked up when he felt a shadow falling over him. He blinked.

“Are you fine?”

“Yes. Sorry, I got distracted.”

Athos looked around.

“Not much to do anyway, and you have a lot on your plate right now.”

Aramis frowned, annoyed by the possible implication behind that comment.

“Nothing that affects my work.”

 “Aramis, please.” Athos rolled his eyes and gave him a _like if I could have any doubt_ look.

“Come on. Walk with me.”

His friend nodded with a smile and they walked in silence for a few minutes, people passing them by.

“I had a talk with Porthos.”

“I know.”

“You do?” Aramis felt his heart racing. “Everything?”

“Peace, my friend. Only the basics.”

“I’m sorry. It’s…. It’s not that I want to keep you apart, but there are certain things that…”

Athos turned to him and grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Aramis, it’s okay. We all have our cross to bear.” His mind slipped away to his own secrets for a second, and he forced himself to bring it back to the present.  “Actually, I’ve been talking with him as well.”

“About what?”

Athos took a deep breath.

“About… the three of us.” He took his hat off and started playing with it in his hands. “I believe it’s time to put a stop to it.”

“What? Why? I’m sure he is not referring to you when he says he doesn’t want me to sleep with other people.”

“No, I’m actually not included in that group.” Athos blushed, as always on those rare occasions when he talked out loud about that specific intimate matter. “But that’s not the point. You two are trying to build a relationship, and that’s a two-person thing to do. I can’t be a burden.”

“You’re not a burden.”

“That’s also what Porthos said.”

“See?”

Athos smiled.

“While I concede that _burden_ might not be the appropriate word. The meaning behind it is the same, nevertheless. You two have to build your relationship together and alone; with time and patience, and without any interference.”

Aramis opened his mouth as to protest, to make sure Athos won’t believe he could be an interference.

“The decision has been made.” Athos used a firm tone and raised one eyebrow as to daring Aramis not to say another word.

The younger musketeer held up his gaze, brown eyes reading blue ones, and finally gave up.

“I think I understand what you mean.”

For half a second Athos gave him the impression to be quite relieved with the result of the conversation, but he quickly pulled up himself together.

“Good.”

They both looked up at the bright blue sky.

“I have to go now. I might have a lead on Dupont.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“No. And don’t give me that look again. It’s not that I don’t trust you. The less fuss we do about it, the better. And it’s not dangerous, I can manage.”

“As soon as you know something, let us know.”

“I will. I promise.”

Athos put his hat on and started to walk away.

“Athos!”

“Yeah?”

“Just so you know… With the three of us, it’s never off the table.”  Aramis stated with a wink.

Athos chuckled and shook his head.

“You may be pretty. But you really are a pain in the ass!”

Aramis watched him go with a smile and then turned to look around him. He was not far from the garrison, Porthos was assigned to palace duty this morning and he was alone with himself; something that made him slightly uncomfortable. He headed toward the garrison looking for some company.

“Hey! Aramis! Would you spar with me? These lazy babies are no match.”

It was François, good companion and swordsman, and the babies he was referring to a couple of musketeer friends sitting on the table with little intention to move from there.

“Shame on all of you, gentlemen.” Aramis grinned while he got ready within seconds.

That was exactly what he needed.

 

Treville observed his men from the distance, not wanting them to know he was there. Both Aramis and François were experienced swordsman and more than a real training, they were just having fun with each other. From the table, Martin and Jean-Luc were cheering up for one or another, depending on who was ‘winning”. After a while, a few other musketeers decided to join the party and as the sound of their laughs and cheers increased, Treville decided it was time to remind them this was not the circus headquarters.

“Attention everyone! Captain on the courtyard!”

Treville rolled his eyes.

“You really don’t have to do that every time, Martin.”

“But sir…”

Treville cut him off with just one glare. The other men chuckled.

“You don’t have anything to do, gentlemen?”

“We do, sir!”

They all tried no to laugh. Martin’s enthusiasm for military protocol was always a cause for fun, luckily the man himself never cared about what the others could think.

Aramis felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to look at the Captain.

“You’ve always been a popular man.”

“Not really.” The musketeer shrugged, he didn’t want to let him know that he believed he was popular for the wrong reasons.

“And more important,” Treville carried on speaking like if he hadn’t heard him, “they all care for you. They admire you, they respect you, they care for you. You should be proud of who you are, Aramis.”

Aramis swallowed, nervously wondering what did Treville knew. He couldn’t know anything, right? Only Porthos knew his deepest fears and secrets, and it was out of the question that he had told the Captain.

On one hand, Treville had proved in multiple occasions that as the Captain of the Musketeers, he always had a way of knowing about a lot of stuff. How did he know? That was the most frequent asked question in every Musketeers gathering. On the other, it was also true that he had known Aramis for almost ten years now; there was no doubt he knew him like a father would know his son, for that was what Treville was to him after all; a father figure.

“Thank you, Captain.”

“You’re welcome. Now go with them.”

 

……………………….

 

Porthos found Aramis in the tavern, but not drinking and brooding like he thought he would be. He was with François, Jean-Luc and Martin, and they were decidedly having fun.

Aramis had to fight the urge of jumping from his seat and clinging to Porthos, kiss him and ask him if he had a good day. Instead, he waited until his friend got a drink and sat with them.

“So, how are our beloved Monarchs today?” François asked.

“Same as always.”

They all nodded. No more words could be said in public, but they knew that ‘same as always’ meant that palace duty was boring, that the King had been pouting over some nonsense with the Queen patiently sat alone next to him, while the Cardinal pulls the threads of the nation.

“Are we celebrating something?”

“Just having fun.” Aramis shrugged.

“Good,” Porthos beamed while he retrieved something from his pocket, “so, who’s up for a card game?”

 

It was almost midnight when they reached their lodgings. Porthos walked with Aramis to his room.

“Athos told me he wants to break up with us.”

Porthos chuckled.

“Yeah.”

“What do you think?”

“I think he’s right. And you?”

Aramis took a moment before giving him an answer.

“Yeah, I think he is. It’s just that I’m worried that he could feel an outcast.”

“Well, it was his decision. It’s not as if we had pushed him away.”

“I guess.”

“Things will be back as they were used to be before we bedded him, or he bedded us. He still will be the loyal and enigmatic friend he is now, that’s not gonna change.”

“I told him that between the three of us, sex is never off the table.”

Porthos cracked up.

“You did?”

“Of course I did!”

Aramis almost seemed offended.

Porthos shook his head in pretended disbelief.

“You are an incorrigible brat.” He smiled. “Well, I better be off.”

Aramis bit his lower lip.

“Porthos?”

“Yeah.”

“Could you…stay?”

“You mean to sleep?”

Aramis nodded shyly.

His friend gave him a severe look.

“Be forewarned nothing is gonna happen.”

“I know.” Aramis raised his hands in a defensive gesture. “I just want to tell you about my day.”

Porthos relaxed and smiled.

“I’d love to hear that.”

They undressed and got ready for bed. They normally wouldn’t leave so many clothes on to sleep, but they couldn’t take the risk of falling into temptation. It had been a long time since the last time they shared a bed, and whatever the actual situation was, the passion and love they shared was always a palpable link between them.

They laid together on their backs, trying not to get too close. Although they were both dying to curl up against each other.

“So, did you do what I suggest this morning?”  Porthos asked to break the ice.

“More or less. It was quite difficult.”

“Making a list of the things you like about yourself when you’re having trouble to like yourself is always a hard task.”

“It’s a short one.”

“It’ll get longer. With time. Want to share?”

“Not sure…”

“It’s fine.”

They fell in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. Both looking at the ceiling.

“Fine, but don’t look at me.” Aramis suddenly spoke turning his head a little.

Porthos looked at him.

“Okay.”

“You’re looking at me now!”

“Oh! Sorry!”

He looked away trying not to smile. Another minute passed without his friend saying a word. Porthos waited patiently.

Then he felt the mattress dipping with the weight of Aramis’ body rolling towards him, pressing by his side and buried his face in the crook of his neck.

Porthos tightened with tension for a second, but then he realized that Aramis was just trying to hide his face in a way that he couldn’t help but finding adorable. That was okay. They could be together like this with no danger of falling into old habits. He finally rearranged himself to wrap his arms around Aramis, holding him tight.

 “Okay. Now I can’t see you.”

He said to the mop of black hair under his chin.

“So the first thing would be that I am a good Musketeer.”

“You are a great Musketeer.”

Aramis sighed and Porthos felt his hot breath against his skin. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore a certain feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“I am a good shooter. No, wait, I am the best shooter. A good swordsman and fighter. I’m loyal and care about my Musketeer brothers.”

“And you’re brave, funny, eloquent, charming…”

“Porthos! You’re doing my job!”

“Sorry.” His friend chuckled.

“And…”  Aramis seemed to doubt here, “and I am a great lover.”

“Hell, yeah.”  Porthos grinned. “Are you okay with that?”

“I am. It’s just other things… that come with the package what bothers me.”

Porthos held him even tighter and kissed the top of his head. A new silence fell over them. Aramis dared to move and lift his head.

“That’s all.”

“Not bad for the first day. Can I look at you now?”

Aramis nodded and found Porthos’ dark eyes with his. They held each other’s gaze; a steady thrill between them, the urge to move closer and close the distance between their lips. For once it was Aramis who reacted first and managed to dodge temptation.

“Sleep time.”

He said, bowing his head and trying to escape from Porthos’ arms. Only that he couldn’t; his friend held him there.

“Don’t.”

Aramis looked at him again.

“Is this okay?”

“It is.”

He pulled him so Aramis was laying his head over his chest, and held him once more. Aramis let out a satisfied sigh and got comfortable; he closed his eyes and thanked God for this second opportunity.

This time, he will make things right.

 

 

 

 


End file.
